


Rainbow Wings

by Ganaroth



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora and Catra are gigantic messes, Catra is Swift Wind, F/F, Mind Control, Multi, Single point of departure AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ganaroth/pseuds/Ganaroth
Summary: Summary: One decision is made differently, and two soldier’s lives continue alongside each other, in defiance of destiny. But destiny is clever, and patient, and adaptable. And years of hurt cannot be solved by any one action.
Relationships: Adora & Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 58
Kudos: 82





	1. Conversations and Conversions

**  
Prologue**

Adora lay on the broken stone of Thaymor, amidst the blasted husks of the village cottages and the wrecks of the Horde’s war machines. What little breath she had left had been suddenly knocked from her lungs as an enthusiastic Bow tackled her to the ground yelling, from too close a distance, “You did it!”

She felt numb as the last remaining vestiges of that power, that PRESENCE drained from her body. “I… did?”

The short, stocky girl…. Glimmer. Her name was Glimmer, Adora recalled, trying to force thoughts through a brain that felt as if it were somehow waking up after a restless night. She stood over them, a tired smile on her face, her eyes friendly and welcoming for the first time in their short acquaintance and said, “You saved us. You saved everyone.”

An image of her best friend retreating through the smoke, a look of betrayal on her face as she vanished, flashed through her mind. Instead of acknowledging it, she gave a small, nervous laugh. “I did it. I turned against the Horde!”

Her eyes widened as her brain caught up to her mouth, and the importance of those words slammed into her like a charged training staff to the gut.

“I turned against the horde,” she said, voice edging towards panic. She sat up, suddenly re-energized by her own confusion, and clutched at the front strap of Bow’s quiver, her expression wild and bewildered. “Why did I do that? I can’t go back now! Where am I supposed to go?”

Glimmer’s hand brushed her shoulder, holding her steady. “Hey, hey.” The Princess knelt beside her. “It’s okay. You’re with us now.” She stood again, holding out her hand like a welcome lifeline. “So come on. Let’s go home.”

Adora smiled, and used Glimmer’s surprisingly strong grip to hoist herself to her unsteady feet, but as she rose, her smile slowly dropped away.

_It doesn’t matter what they do. The two of us look out for each other._

“I… you mean Bright Moon, right? We’re going to Bright Moon?”

_You’ve known these people for what, a couple of hours? And now you’re going to throw everything away for… them?_

Glimmer nodded, a twinge of concern entering her expression. Behind her, Bow stood and embraced the two of them in a jubilant hug, not noticing the note of tension hanging in the air.

_Because you left me! And if I don’t bring you back, Shadow Weaver’s going to have my head!_

Shadow Weaver, who had been manipulating them both, apparently, since they were kids. Who, Adora reluctantly admitted, _had_ been less than forgiving to Catra in the past. Catra’s fearful statement was exaggeration, of course… But by how much?

_Let’s go home already._

Those same words, spoken by these two people, one pair known for half a day and what seemed like a lifetime of otherworldly trials that she already knew had changed her forever, and the other a friend held tight since before she took her first steps, read her first words, fired her first stun blaster. A friend that was now headed back into the grip of darkness and danger with nobody to protect her. And more importantly, nobody to stand at her side.

Adora looked down at the crystalline blade of the sword she still held in her hands, watching the reflection of her tired eyes and disheveled hair on its surface. And she looked back toward the far side of the village, where it edged up against the outskirts of the Whispering Woods and where she had left her jacket and her precious, long-sought-after badge. The fact that she had wanted it so much made her feel slightly ill, but that pull of years remained.

She sighed, closing her eyes. “Glimmer… I’m sorry. I can’t go with you. Not now. I can try to catch up with you in a few days, but for now, I need to go back.”

Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, her gentle smile dropping entirely. “You just said that you couldn’t go back there now. You just helped _destroy_ a Horde squadron. That was probably the coolest thing I’ve ever seen! You’re like some kind of mythic… something. A something that had to have been sent here to help us; Adora, you’re a good person! I can finally see that!” The shorter girl’s eyes shone with bewilderment and hurt. “You can’t just… you can’t just leave us like this, not now!” Bow withdrew his arms, looking tremendously uncomfortable and reaching out absently to pat that beautiful animal, the horse.

“Look, guys. I mean, Adora, going back is a _bad_ idea now. They aren’t just going to forget what you did here. They’ll… I don’t know. Feed you to giant scorpions? They do that, right?”

“Not usually,” mumbled Adora. “The scorpions mostly do construction, and they don’t eat people. The thing is, I know this is going to be dangerous. And yeah, maybe it’s a bad idea, but Catra…” Glimmer and Bow looked at each other, confused, and Adora sighed. “The girl with the claws that you shot with your web arrow, Bow. She’s been my best friend ever since I can remember, and I know she’s going to be punished if I _don’t_ go with her, and I can’t let that happen.”

Bow scratched the back of his head. “She seemed pretty committed to hurting me while she was bruising my ribs back there. Those are the kind of friends you get in the Horde? I mean, no offense Adora, but I was about to suggest that we, you know, had a new best friend thing going on here…”

“I thought maybe I could have more than one best friend, Bow,” she said, uncertain and eyes downcast.

“No,” snapped Glimmer. “You really can’t. That’s how words work. Adora, she was here to destroy the village, and it didn’t look like she cared at all. _You_ almost cried when we found that old battle site earlier. You’re not like each other. You don’t belong with them.”

Adora shook her head forcefully. “No, Glimmer, please try to understand. She was… she was scared. And confused, and she didn’t understand what was going on any more than I did this morning. All she knew was that her friend was being held captive and that she needed to get me back. What she did was wrong, but she didn’t _understand_ that. And I have a chance to explain it to her, to get her to understand if I can just go back with her. Just for a while, long enough to get us both out. Then you’ll have She-Ra AND Catra on the side of the Rebellion, and she’s an amazing fighter! She can help us too!”

Bow gingerly felt at his ribs, wincing from the pain. “Yeah, I got that she was a fighter. She’s a _lot_ stronger than she looks, you know?”

Glimmer fixed him with a glare. “Not important right now, Bow. Adora, I wanted _you_ to join the rebellion. Not She-Ra. It’s not about what you can do, it’s that you’re a good person, and good people don’t belong with the Horde.”

Adora was silent for several long heartbeats, broken only by the sound of a halfhearted whicker from the horse. “She’s a good person too, Glimmer. Or she can be. She just needs the chance I had, and I’m sorry, but I’d be wrong not to give it to her.” She pushed herself up straight, ignoring the trembling in her legs and fastened the Sword of Protection (She knew that name. How did she know that name?), to her back. “I’m going to get my jacket, and I’ll catch up with them. I think I was glowing pretty bright back there; they might not have realized it was me. Please Bow, Glimmer… meet me back here in a week, ok? I think I can get both of us out.” Her eyes narrowed. “Besides, I think some of the people back home have some explaining to do to me about all the lies they told.”

Glimmer wore a hard expression, and stepped forward as though to restrain the Force Captain, but stumbled as her own exhaustion washed over her. Bow stepped forward quickly to support her before she fell, and looked up at Adora with a sad, troubled expression. “I think I can understand, but I still think this is a bad idea. We really can’t stop you in this condition, though. And, uh, you’re a free person, so… yeah.” He shrugged, grimacing a little under Glimmer’s tired glare. “A week. Right here, okay? We’ll wait for you. C’mon Glimmer, let’s get you home to recharge. We’ve got a lot to tell your Mom about.” He paused. “Good luck, Adora.”

The Princess and the archer turned away, and Bow helped his unsteady friend onto the horse. He gave Adora a final sorrowful glance as she turned aside as well, exposing those jagged wings on her back as she walked toward her abandoned badge, her old life, her old friend, and a nauseating danger that he could only just sense looming over the hollowed-out village, and the only three people left in it.

She went one way; they went another, and though the moons of Etheria still orbited in their same complex dance, illuminating the surface in a dozen pastel shades, something ineffable shifted within the planet. Miles away, an ancient system took note of events and updated its calculations.

**Chapter 1: Conversations and Conversions.**

The gray Dustlands between the Fright Zone and the Whispering Woods had gotten that way after decades of fighting. Once, the forest had grown right to the edge of the chasms of the Scorpion Kingdom, not otherworldly or shifting in the way that the _Whispering_ Woods did, but still full of life and the rich smell of new life rising from the old. Hordak, or one of his Force Captains, had long ago ordered that forest leveled. The lumber was of some use, in less critical parts of the Fright Zone’s constantly evolving construction, but more important was that the early Rebellion had used those woods for cover, striking at the fortifications of the nascent Fright Zone at whim. Now a vast swath of dusty nothing formed a no man’s land between the two territories. The trees harvested and gone, and the rest burned so thoroughly that all that remained were the loose dunes of ash.

Catra sat atop one of those dunes, alone under a black night sky between the passage of any of Etheria’s more incandescent moons, a dry stick in hand, drawing abstract nothings in the dust, uncaring that it stained the torn trousers of her outfit. It’s not as though it was a uniform that she needed to take care of; she’d find another set of clothing when she got back. She never wore the uniform. It was a small rebellion, something she could get away with because…

She frowned, and the stick cracked from the unconscious tension of her grip. Adora wouldn’t be there now. Wouldn’t be lording it over the rest of them with the oblivious privilege that allowed her to wear something even more unorthodox, but in doing so allowing her to follow suit, at least in small ways. As soon as she got back, she’d be shoved into that white shirt and tight red trousers. No freedom of movement. Cloth on her fur, enclosing her, reminding her of who and what owned her life. And that was the optimistic future, as if Catra had ever had a use for optimism. That was the future where Shadow Weaver didn’t simply have her thrown from the cadet program and into the general soldiery, forced to wear constricting armor, nameless and faceless for the rest of her days. Or, she thought, maybe she’d just be executed. She smiled bitterly, unsure which idea she hated more.

She’d have time to think about it; there was some distance still to their destination. A skiff, like the one she and Adora had stolen way back (two days ago), could make the journey in a couple of hours. A Horde tank, heavy and bound closer to the ground, might take as many as twelve, depending on the conditions of the dunes and weather. But most of their skiffs and tanks and transports had been destroyed in the confrontation with that new Princess ( _Adora,_ supplied some dark part of the mind that she was trying to ignore.), and that meant that a lot of soldiers were walking. They’d radioed ahead for more vehicles, for a pick-up from this mess, but it might still be hours. Days, if someone in the chain of command decided that they deserved punishment.

They did deserve punishment. One mission. One goal. It should have been the easiest thing in the world, and she couldn’t even get _that_ right.

She wondered what kind of punishment Shadow Weaver would inflict before the actual sentence began.

The stick in her hand was still whole enough, and she continued to idly draw in the dust, ignoring the sounds of camp being set up for the night behind her. She was on perimeter lookout, technically, but who really cared? Rebels didn’t come out this far into the Dustlands, and it wasn’t like her own situation was going to get worse. She looked down and realized that somehow she’d been sketching a crude drawing of a woman with a sword. Her vision blurred as she wiped a tear away, making a small hissing sound with a strangled cry on the end; a muffled scream that she refused to acknowledge. With her other hand she clawed at the dirt, rending the picture into meaningless scribbles.

Her ears twitched. Even if she wasn’t paying attention, her senses still outstripped anyone in camp, and she could hear the thump of boots on the loose dust coming her way, just over the next dune. She slowly regained her feet, and unhooked the blaster baton from her belt. Not that she cared about intruders, particularly, but it would be nice to have someone she could legitimately beat the hell out of. A fleeting thought flashed through her mind, that if she captured a rebel scout she might even earn a reprieve, but she shut it away. Catra didn’t earn reprieves. So she crept close to the crest of the dune, waiting, baton off so that the hum wouldn’t give her away. The footsteps neared the top. Within range. She pounced.

Her tackle took the intruder by surprise as Catra tangled her opponent’s legs in hers, taking the conflict to the ground. She could have ended it in any number of ways, of course, with claws or baton, but the thought that it might just be a soldier lagging behind the rest of them kept her from slicing open her enemy’s stiff jacket and the skin beneath. Then an elbow caught her stomach with real force, and she lost her wind as the intruder reversed her hold, got behind her and pinned one of her arms. No choice now. A quick slash to the wrist would release her, and then she could get some distance to…

“Catra! Cut it out, I’m not going to hurt you!”

The world paused, and Catra sagged in the enemy’s grasp, bereft of all strength to stand upright.

“Hey, Adora,” she whispered. “Funny to see you here.” Inside her mind, a thousand thoughts burned at once, all contradictory and compounding and irrational and logical and _she’s here, she came back_ and _of course she came back after I failed_ and _do I have a chance now_ and _what even is this?_

Adora laughed quietly, nervously as she released Catra _who could have escaped any time she wanted_ and said “I know. This isn’t exactly how I would have thought this would turn out either. Look… can we talk?”

Catra turned around, eying Adora’s sheepish stance, the crumpled fabric of her once-pristine jacket, Force Captain badge still attached, and the hilt of that massive sword rising over her right soldier. She could see in darkness. One of her advantages _for a sneaking, cowardly nothing_ said a low, menacing voice inside her, and she knew that Adora couldn’t. Couldn’t see the dirt or tear stains on her outfit, or the tiny bleeding pinpricks where her own claws had pierced her palms from clenching so tight…

That stance, the way Adora’s weight shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, the slight slump of her shoulders, the way that her arms crossed as though holding something that wasn’t there. Catra knew Adora, knew that cocky, almost unbearable way that she held herself. Shoulders square, feet planted, chin held high. This was _not_ the body language of a woman who had only hours ago destroyed half a squadron of soldiers, bots, and tanks with nothing but her fists and that strange sword on her back, glowing like all three incandescent moons together. No, Adora looked almost how Catra imagined herself to… Her mind halted and banished the traitor thought before it could register, leaving only the knowledge that Adora couldn’t possibly see Catra’s own pitiable state.

Catra nodded slowly, though Adora probably couldn’t see it. “Yeah, sure. Want to gloat a little? Maybe tell me how we can just run off and join your new friends? ‘Hey, Catra, I just figured out that we’re not the good guys! We should abandon our whole life!’” She rolled her eyes, probably the only things Adora could clearly see in the dark, and plopped herself down on the ground. She felt a tiny thrill of satisfaction when Adora followed suit.

“No, Catra. No gloating, no demands. Not this time.” She twisted her hands together, clearly trying to think of something to say. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did back there in Thaymor, okay? What the Horde was doing wasn’t right. If you could have seen what I did before your squadron got there, you’d have understood too. The Horde… they’re the bad guys in this. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before now…”

Catra rolled her eyes again, this time slower and more exaggerated, just to make sure Adora caught on. “Wow, like two sentences in, and you’re already repeating the same speech. Your people skills really are top notch. Love the way the Horde is suddenly “they,” by the way, real subtle.” She shook her head. “Dammit… Adora, there aren’t good guys and bad guys. There are just guys. It doesn’t matter to me who is on what side doing what, and it damn well shouldn’t matter to you either, because you _promised that we were in this together!”_ Her voice had risen to a shout without her realizing it, and she looked over her shoulder, nervous that someone might have noticed, only to be surprised when her hand was suddenly grasped, tight but gentle, in Adora’s own.

“We _are_ in this together. Why do you think I came back? I told you, the Horde is on the wrong side in this. We’re trying to create order, a better way of living for everyone, but nobody out here can see that. They just see tanks rolling in and destroying their villages. People killed… no, _slaughtered_ for fighting back. We have blasters and bots and tanks, and the two most competent people defending that “fortress” were armed with arrows and glitter.” Her eyes shone wet in the dark, and Catra could only stare, shocked that for once she was seeing _Adora_ cry. “This isn’t making things better. This isn’t creating order. You say there are no good guys or bad guys, but out _there_ they call us “The Evil Horde.”

Catra aimed for a sardonic laugh, but it came out as more of a weak giggle. “They call us that because they’re _losing._ Come on, you remember the stuff we used to say about cadet squad seven that one season they were beating us in engagement duels? Temporarily. I mean, my plan kicked their asses in the end, not that I got credit for…you know what, never mind. Point is, these stupid names don’t matter. End of the day, they’re the same as us. We’re just fighting over who’s in charge.” Her eyes narrowed. “And before you forget, that was supposed to be _us_. Me and you, finally doing something worth doing without Shadow Weaver digging her claws into us!”

Adora sat there silently for a long moment. Too long; she was obviously wrestling with what to say. Catra was on the verge of simply continuing when Adora finally started speaking again. “Shadow Weaver. She was really going to hurt you if you couldn’t bring me back?”

Catra looked at her, speechless. Adora had just asked… “Are you joking? Is water wet? Are bots green? Is that _fucking lightning she’s used to torture me all of my life red?_ ” She was hyperventilating now and honestly didn’t care whether the rest of the camp could hear her. “Shadow Weaver punishes me for everything. She punished me when I’m not good enough, which is always. She punishes me when you’re _too_ good, which is always! If I’m just standing in her line of sight, and you’re not there to make her look like a monster if she does something to me, she…” There were tears now. Stupid, worthless, embarrassing, _weak_ tears.

And then Adora’s arms were around her. “I didn’t know. I don’t know how I didn’t know, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry, Catra. Please, please, _please_ forgive me. I never would have wanted that to happen to you. Never.” She was crying too. “I knew she was… hard on you. But I thought… I thought that I was protecting you.”

With a wail, Catra shoved her away, her strength, always surprising for a woman her size, sending Adora sprawling backward into the dirt. “And why do you think I want your _protection?”_ she hissed. “Someday I’m going to have her where I want her, and then I’ll pay her back. Me, not you! You’re my friend, or you’re supposed to be, but you don’t get to be my keeper. _I am not your pet!”_

“You’re right.”

The words silenced Catra’s screams. In the background, she could hear soldiers of the camp running toward them, finally alerted by her shouting, and she dreaded what would come next.

Adora spoke again, softly, as though a platoon of armed soldiers weren’t bearing down on them. “I don’t want to protect you anymore. That… wasn’t working. And even if it did, it’s not what you deserve. We are supposed to look after each other. That was the promise.” She pushed herself up from the dust, facing Catra squarely, something of her old arrogance back in her face. “When Shadow Weaver tries to talk to either of us next time, I’m going to be there. Not in front of you or behind you, but right next to you. And she’s going to see and hear both of us, because I am _not_ leaving you alone again.”

“And if she doesn’t let you?” Catra’s response was automatic, her mouth moving, agreeing with Adora even before she could really decide whether this is what she wanted or not.

“She’s not going to have a choice.” Adora smirked, and tapped the hilt of her sword. “I just officially became too valuable to ignore.”

A flash of pure, unadulterated hatred flashed through Catra, and it was all she could do to stop herself from tearing open Adora’s throat feeling hot blood on her claws and screaming victory to the skies. Instead, she lashed forward with a single claw before Adora could react, and opened a long, bloody line on her cheekbone. Adora’s hand leapt to the wound in surprise, shock, but not a hint of anger in her eyes. “Catra! Why did…”

“It looks like an arrow grazed you, huh? Must have been when you were escaping from the rebels. It’s a good thing you managed to catch up to us after our attack left the rebel forces too off balance to guard you properly.” She looked over her shoulder at the approaching soldiers. “You didn’t know what you were doing with that sword. It… took control of you, but you think you can handle it now. And you got it away from the rebels and brought it back to us. You’re a damn hero, and so am I, got it?”

The blonde woman with the line of blood on her cheek nodded, suddenly seeming a bit overwhelmed, and Catra turned to the line of armed soldiers. “Hey, guys! Guess who we found after all!”

* * *

The former cadet turned Force Captain turned traitor turned Force Captain again sat on a thin bedroll inside a camp tent, alone and isolated from the rest of the squadron. Adora’s cheek was bandaged (probably a small scar, nothing too noticeable, said the medic), and she had been given a clean uniform to wear, which she pinned her Force Captain’s badge to. She felt a small pang of guilt putting it on; this didn’t belong on her now. Yesterday’s Adora wanted this so very much, but today all she could see in its surface was smoke and fire and the cracked mosaic walls of Thaymor. She breathed, steeling herself. She needed the badge, at least until she could confront Shadow Weaver with Catra, and escape with her after her friend got what she so clearly needed herself.

She missed her jacket though, and smiled vaguely at the thought of the half-dozen Identical ones hanging in her locker. At least she’d be able to pick _those_ up before she left.

Her hand crept up to her cheek again, and she frowned. She wasn’t really sure how she thought about that cut. Her best friend, slicing into her like that; not an accident during training or roughhousing, but a clean deliberate slash. Even if it was meant to help, it was meant to cause harm. _And did she really need to do that? Did I_ need _that excuse?_

The tent flap opened behind her, and she turned to see Catra once again, now something of her old smile on her face, and something that might even be called a swagger in her pace. She was carrying a couple of ration bars and nutrient bottles and tossed one of each to Adora. “Hey. Thought you could use these. I even managed to snag extras for myself, because now I’m suddenly not on the shit list.” She sat down cross-legged on the floor and tore open the foil packaging of the ration bar with her teeth. “I got things squared away about the sword for now. Too many people saw what happened to pretend you and that thing are just a coincidence, but “Princess Mind Control Device” turns out to be a good explanation. Good thing you figured out how to defeat it, and take control of the power it gives you, right?”

Adora nodded and opened up her own bar. “Ugh, brown… Catra, you would not believe the kind of food that they have out there. It’s incredible. It’s like your first drink of water after starvation drills, except _all the time._ ” She shook her head, still not quite believing the experience. “I don’t even know how they make that stuff. I didn’t see any factories or processing plants, but if we ever get a chance, we need to visit one.” She took a bite of her brown ration bar and grimaced. “This isn’t ever going to taste the same again.”

Catra stared silently for a long moment before deliberately taking a large bite from her own. “If you’ve got a problem with it, you can always go back. I mean, it’s not like I’m not taking a risk bringing you back too. You’ve got that sword, and you can punch out tanks now, I guess. What happens when they tell you to demonstrate, and you go nuts and start smashing things? I mean, I’m screwed if you leave, believe me, I get that. But I could be just as screwed with you coming along.” She rose from her seated position in a single smooth movement, standing over Adora and talking directly down at her. “So maybe a little less complaining about the cuisine, and a little more thinking about how we’re going to spin this, okay? We’ll capture a rebel food factory for you later. You’re a Force Captain; you can set your own priorities now.”

Adora swallowed her chunk of bar, still unable to get over how unappetizing it suddenly tasted. “Right. You’re right, obviously. So let’s talk about priorities. None of this works unless I can make the sword transform me again _and_ I can keep control of it. We might be able to take out Shadow Weaver together, but if I can’t transform into She-Ra…”

“She-Ra?” asked Catra, head tilted quizzically to one side.

“That’s apparently the name of the big scary lady I become. I honestly have no idea what it means, but it was written down inside this temple in the woods and… you know what, that’s a long story and not really helpful right now. Anyway, unless I can transform into She-Ra, people aren’t going to think I’m too valuable to get rid of too after we face Shadow Weaver down. I need magical glowing Princess powers to make this work, and wow that’s going to be a tough sell, isn’t it?”

Catra nodded, eyes narrowed. “A little bit of one, yeah. And what about me? Is there a reason I’m going to be valuable?”

Adora paused, setting down the remains of her ration bar and starting in on her nutrient bottle; these still tasted good enough at least. “Look, you’re not going to like it…” Catra began growling immediately, and Adora winced. “…but I promise, it’s just a temporary thing. You being treated well is going to be a condition of my cooperation, ok? So yeah, they’ll be doing it as a favor to me, but that’s not how it really is! You and I’ll know that, at least. I can’t do this without you backing me up.” She took a swig of the bottle, not noticing that the glare in Catra’s eyes had only faded to an ember, not gone out entirely. “This will all change later, I promise. But it’s a no-go unless I can make this work without randomly smashing more tanks, like you said. So, are you up for an experiment?”

Catra nodded slowly, even as she asked, “What kind of experiment?”

“I’m going to try to transform again.” Adora looked at the roof of the tent and judged that it was probably high enough. “If I go nuts or anything like that… if I even stop responding to you, you need to take me down, okay? Get the sword out of my hands, knock me unconscious, whatever it takes. Luckily, you’re the best fighter that I know, so if anyone can manage it against Princess me, it’d be you.” She pulled herself off of the ground as well, and detached the sword from her back, not noticing the faint red blush under the fur of Catra’s cheeks. “Got your baton?”

Catra nodded, swinging the weapon into a ready position.

“Ok then.” Adora raised the sword, bluish runed blade shining ghostly in the fluorescent lighting of the tent. “For the Honor of Grayskull!” Even before she had completed the phrase, the shout had sounded flat, lacking the resonance and thunder of when she had used it in Thaymor, or even in the woods with that giant insect monster. A quick check of herself revealed that she was still in Horde clothing, and decidedly less than eight feet tall.

Catra watched, unimpressed. “So, does this thing have, like, a time delay on it? Because that’s not especially useful…”

“No!” snapped Adora. “I must have just done it wrong. Give a break, okay, this is my first day as a Princess. I don’t know how this all works. Another try…”

Half an hour later, she was still saying it, as no small amount of despair and anxiety suffused her. “Okay, one more try…” _If I can’t get this to work,_ none _of this matters. I can’t save Catra. I can’t help the Rebellion. I won’t even be able to save myself._ She looked over towards Catra, now leaning against the tentpole and feigning boredom, with the telltale twitch of her ears and ceaseless motion of her tail that had always signaled distress for her. _I need this. I need her._ “One more try. For the Honor of Grayskull!”

The stone at the center of the Sword of Protection’s guard flashed. Blue, golden, blue, and golden again. Adora smiled, felt the thrill rising within her as power gathered into the sword, into her hands, as she connected with some incredible all-powerful force that sought to change the very world according to some combination of its needs and her desires. Catra stood up straight, shock replacing the false apathy on her face as the room lit up, far brighter than the camp lights, until no shadows remained.

And then everything went wrong. Beams of golden light streamed forth from the sword in all directions as Adora struggled to control it. Where they touched supplies, those items either disintegrated or scorched irreparably. One of the beams touched the lamp, and its loss was barely noticed amidst the chaos. And another beam, as Adora watched in horror, reached out to touch her best friend, who was just a little too close to get out the way. Catra screamed.

The light from the sword faded, having done its work. Adora immediately went for her own baton, switching it to flashlight function. “Catra? Catra, are you okay? Are you hurt, oh no, I didn’t know this could happen, I didn’t mean for this… to…” She fell silent as the light came to rest on Catra’s groaning figure.

Her best friend of eighteen years, her partner and rival in battle, the person she had sworn to stand shoulder to shoulder with raised one hand, tipped with shining golden claws, to her head, fur now colored a light cream and crowned in copper-colored hair rather than her familiar orange and dark brown. She shook herself slightly, stumbling clumsily to her feet, balance thrown off by the great wings in every color of the rainbow that now sprouted from her back, having ripped through her uniform cloth. She reached out to the pole for balance, and Adora watched as the tiniest scrape of her new claws left a nick in the steel.

“Ow. Okay, Adora, what the _shit_ was that? That is not at all what you said what was going to happen, and now I feel like I’ve been put through a damn trash compactor. It wasn’t fun. So _please_ warn me next time… what are you staring at?”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m making up some terminology, history, and geography here, as you can tell. A lot of information about Etheria is very vague, so I’m taking creative liberties with things like distances and times and numbers. In the show, it’s perfectly ok that the Best Friend Squad seems to just magically appear in Dryl, or the Kingdom of Snows, or the Crimson Waste whenever they feel like it, because that’s not what the show is about. In this story, travel time and distance may sometimes be important, so anything like that which you see is purely headcanon for this story.
> 
> Adora and company were part of an elite cadet squad, chosen from an early age to eventually be raised into the Horde officer corps. Lonnie, Rogelio, and Catra definitely seem more competent than the faceless goons running around, despite only being cadets, so I picked and explanation that made sense to me. As for Kyle… well, maybe he has hidden depths, or maybe the horde saw something in him that never quite panned out, but kept him around for squad morale.  
> I think that between occasional character dialogue and the visuals we see, it’s very likely that Etheria doesn’t have a sun any more than it has stars, and is lit during the daytime by one or several moons which happen to glow on their own. I’ve picked three, just because. These moons might also provide warmth, or it might just be Etherian magic. Hence my references to “incandescent” moons.
> 
> Catra and Adora probably don’t know how food is naturally grown, so Adora assumes all those tasty Thaymor treats were made in a factory somewhere.


	2. Everything is New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra reacts to what just happened. Adora takes charge. The system begins to intervene.

Chapter 2: Everything is New

The silence stretched long between the two in the darkness of the tent, now lit only by Adora’s baton and the subtle shimmer of Catra’s claws and eyes as they reflected the light. As though in slow motion, Adora watched her friend examine her outstretched hand, it’s newly lightened color and golden claws. Catra’s gaze moved up her arm, now taking in the reddish striping, slightly brighter than before, and she took a handful of her almost metallic copper hair, and stared at it, expressionless.  


No. Not expressionless, Adora realized. Catra’s pupils were dilated, almost to the edges of her sclera, and she was breathing heavily. Adora could feel Catra’s heart beating rapidly in her chest, blood rushing through her so fast as to almost drown out all other sound.  


_Wait, why can I feel…_  


Her thought was interrupted as Catra stretched out her new _beautiful, incredible_ wings to their full span, pushing against the tent fabric on either side and gave them that same calm appraisal that Adora knew, could _feel_ was a microscopic film over terror and outrage and confusion.  


“What did you just do to me?” Catra whispered.  


“I… I’m not sure what this…”  


_“What did you do to me?”_ Catra shrieked, this time her voice filling the air, so loud that Adora winced, and reflexively put her hands up to cover her ears. Before they had traveled half the distance, however, Catra had already leapt on her, a blur of red and white and gold that knocked Adora to the ground, into the far tentpole, and began collapsing the shelter around them. Adora, panicking and feeling Catra’s panic as well reflecting inside them both, again and again, attempted to cut a hole with her sword, but its size and the close quarters made it less than optimal for the task.  


Obligingly, the sword became a pointed dagger (what? How did...), and Adora freed herself just as Catra tore herself free as well, slicing the thick canvas apart with her claws with no resistance at all. The Force Captain backed up into the floodlit center of the Horde camp, keenly aware of the fury in her friend’s mind. “Catra, I’m sorry! I had no idea this could happen! I didn’t mean to do this!”  


Catra gave a bitter laugh. “I can tell. I can tell you’re telling the truth. You’re too terrible a liar to make this up. You never _mean_ to do _anything!”_ Another blur of movement and Catra was on her again, grappling, trying to take the sword (which was a sword again, when did that happen?) out of her hands. Fury must have been giving her strength, because she was managing it too, wrenching the hilt from Adora’s grasp finger by finger. Adora looked into Catra’s eyes, and saw only blind, feral rage. And then she felt fear. Her own fear, as she fought for her life against her dearest friend, who she was fairly certain she couldn’t take without genuinely injuring her even before this new transformation was taken into account. And then the echo of reflected fear, as Catra saw herself plainly in Adora’s eyes, in full light.  


Their mutual fear resonated. Adora stumbled backward. Catra ran.  


* * *

At first, the terror, the _shame_ was blinding. Catra could feel new power running through her limbs as she sprinted across the camp, quickly becoming accustomed to her new center of gravity. Soldiers stood in her way, startled and fearful of the bright apparition speeding past them. Some tried to block her; those she dodged around without barely a thought, saving the cascading horror of her mind for a kind of frenzied meditation on what had just happened to her.  


_She_ changed _me. Adora was supposed to be the one who had changed. Bad enough, that, but then to give her a gift, and why is that somehow worse than her changing my body against my will?_  


_Because I wasn’t strong enough to keep up anymore. Adora can throw combat bots with one hand, and I was just the same, and dependent on her good will to stay alive yet again, so she gave me power. But it’s her power, not mine. Again._  


A blaster shot crackled through the air, followed by a half dozen more, and she dodged contemptuously, only giving them cursory attention. It felt to her like the world was just barely in slow motion, like a screen playing at a fraction of a second delay. She somersaulted into the air, then instinctively used her new wings to halt her motion, causing another blast to miss her, then reversing course to slam into the soldier that fired it. All thought of escape vanished from her mind; the fear was gone now, though the shame at her own _pathetic_ dependence remained. A single swipe from her claws bisected the soldier’s baton, and a second tore through his armor like cloth, leaving bloody trails across the lacertilian’s chest. Her claws weren’t quite long enough to make a simple slash there fatal through the armor, and she decided to let it be, backflipping away from another volley of bolts, and smashing into yet another opponent, sending this one flying with a blow from her wing. A moment of surprise at how strong those were, although she supposed it made sense, since they could carry her…  


She jumped, opened her wings, and flew and for a blessed moment, perhaps for the first time in years, everything but wonder and excitement vanished. Even Adora’s worry, still echoing in her brain, faded to something she could ignore. Laughing, she circled into a dive, no longer questioning how she knew to do this, and pounced upon soldier after soldier, breaking their weapons, tearing apart their helmets, lifting them into the air to drop them in crumpled heaps, and reveling in their total inability to stop her.  


An electrified whip wrapped itself around her leg. The pain only hit her for an instant before she cut the cord away, but as she did so, another attached itself, and another, and though she slashed them away like fragile threads, the pain of lightning _familiar, but not quite the same. The wrong color_ began to overwhelm her, and she dropped to the ground. She had once heard that when in pain and anger, a person’s vision was supposed to blur and go red. That had never been her experience; now wracked by the electrical leashes, her eyes sharpened, showing the colors of the camp in vivid contrast, centering on the nearest soldier holding on to her. She screamed and rushed forward, claws reaching for the thinner armor at his throat.  


She felt the pulse of resolute confidence the moment before she heard the voice, the sudden rush of power in the air, and the total conviction of Adora’s thoughts. “Senior Cadet Catra! Stand down immediately and stop abusing our soldiers! They can’t beat you; you’ve proven your point. This is an order from your Force Captain!”

Amidst the fray, somehow nobody had noticed that Adora was now giant and glowing, standing a head taller than even the largest lacertilian in camp, and broadened by visible musculature that her wiry friend had never before possessed. Unlike last time though, when she had seen this She-Ra form during the chaos of Thaymor, Adora’s eyes were clear, and her expression was stern rather than blank, and on her chest…  


Her Force Captain badge stood proud against the white and gold, glowing with its own greenish fire.  


Catra halted her charge, just as the other soldiers deactivated their whips, relieving her of their pain. Her mind raced with contradictory thoughts once again, chief among them outrage for Adora ordering her like that, then gratitude for giving her both an excuse for her rampage, and the compliment to her abilities. And finally, a deep, unsettling dread as she realized that, at least in part, something deep inside her had brought her to a stop not simply because it was a good idea but because Adora had _wanted_ her to.  


* * *

Adora hadn’t really known what to do, of course. She’d watched as helplessly as everyone else as Catra, with her new colors and her new wings and that speed and agility which had always seemed almost supernatural somehow now heightened even further wreaked havoc among the troops. The confusion and disarray lasted far longer than it should have, the Force Captain inside her noted, disapprovingly noting how slow the Horde was to adopt their standard capture protocols. But that was the thought that finally broke her from her paralysis. Those protocols were meant for when new and dangerous wildlife was encountered, not for Catra. Not for her friend. Not for her friend, who was some stomach-churning combination of ashamed and panicked and gloriously, gloriously delighted.  


For a moment, she stepped forward, ready to order the soldiers to get away from Catra, and then a thought sped through her mind of what Catra would think if it looked like Adora was trying to _save_ her. Or, she thought for a second moment, of what it would look like to have her there, in standard uniform, commanding this otherworldly creature, like a pet.

She decided to take the risk and said the words. This time was different. The sheer power of the presence that filled her was still almost overwhelming, but it was as though something else was there to support her, to keep her grounded and cognizant of her own personality. The rush was there, and the heady sense of near invincibility, but this time she controlled it, the other mind linked to hers keeping her sane. Keeping her Adora.  


She spared one more moment on a pulse of gratitude toward her friend, who she could understand was somehow shielding her, and stepped forward once again, giving it her best commanding officer voice, one perfected from years of listening to other officers and secretly practicing in the mirror when nobody was around to hear it. Firm, confident, as though disobedience wasn’t even a possibility. And to her great surprise, it worked. The soldiers deactivated their weapons, and Catra came to a dead stop with a confused look on her face. Good so far.  


“As you have no doubt been informed, I have been given new abilities by this… Princess mind control weapon. They underestimated the will of a Horde soldier!” She smiled as a few soldiers, those not picking themselves off the ground, raised a small cheer, and felt lucky that she’d practiced this voice so many times. _A minute, maybe, before I can’t pretend I know what I’m doing. This is way, way too hard. Just go!_ “As part of these new powers, I have the ability to empower a single chosen companion. As Catra was the one to successfully rescue me, and because she is the best combatant of anyone here…” Her glare, another stock expression practiced a thousand times, dared anyone to dispute her words. “…she has been chosen for this gift. Senior Cadet Catra has received a field promotion for her valor, and despite her unprofessional enthusiasm during the, uh, testing of her new… abilities…” _Crap, running out of acting power, gotta wrap this up._ “…you will now address her as Sergeant Catra, and as my second. So, um, get yourselves cleaned up, think about how you’d do better fighting her next time, and uh, carry on. Dismissed!”  


She hoped that nobody could see the sweat behind the glow.  


The others began to disperse, helping the wounded and merely embarrassed off the ground to seek medical attention, or perhaps just a helping of the non-regulation intoxicant that always seemed to make its way into these camps, no matter how much the officers tried to stamp it out. Catra, arms folded in on herself once again, approached her. Adora noted that the former effect of the pose: making her seem small, was somewhat blunted by the wings rising over her shoulders.  


“So…you chose to give me these nice new powers, huh?” Catra’s voice was a whisper, and surprisingly calm as she looked up at Adora. She had half expected another attack on her.  


“As far as they know, obviously. I can’t exactly say, “Whoops, I guess one of my new princess powers is giving people awesome wings, guess I’m still not in control!” Adora grimaced, feeling a spark of embarrassment, but again missing the blush on Catra’s cheeks. “That’d go over real well for the plan.”  


Catra glared resolutely, forcing down something that Adora could almost swear was an expression of pleasure. “Yeah, it was a good save. You came _this_ close to sounding like you were actually in charge.” She held her fingers a fraction of an inch apart. “Now take it back. Right now.”  


Adora shifted her feet nervously. “I’m pretty sure that I can’t. I mean, I can try, but when I transformed this time, it felt like you were helping me keep control of it. I think maybe that whatever this is, you’re supposed to be a part of it too. I’m sorry. I didn’t ask your permission, and now I’ve changed you, and I don’t know how to undo it, and it might be forever.”  


Her friend stood in silence, then let out a long sigh, though some anger still burned at the bottom of her throat. “Fine. It stays for the moment. You can try to figure it out later. In the meantime… hey, at least I have new Princess powers also. Now I’m important too, even if it’s just because of something you did. This probably actually made the plan work better, really. I mean, you saw me out there. You think Hordak and Shadow Weaver are going to want to get rid of me now that I can take on half a squadron on my own?” A bright light shown in her eyes, and she smiled. “I didn’t mind that part. And, just so you know, flying is about as cool as you’d think. One more thing I can do that you can’t, pretty sure.”  


Adora smiled, sensing some of the tension draining. “Yeah, I don’t think I can manage that trick. I suppose you could carry me…”  


“No.”  


“Fair enough.”  


“Anyway, Shadow Weaver actually might still want to get rid of me. She is going to be _pissed_ that I got something out of this. Just really furious. I mean, giving me a battlefield promotion? Can you even do that?”  


Adora shrugged, trying not to show the panic she was suddenly feeling… and felt a little pulse of that same emotion answering from within Catra. “I have no idea. I haven’t been to orientation yet, so I really don’t know exactly what the limits of my authority are. And that’s assuming that I still get to be Force Captain after all this.” She touched the badge on her chest, still glowing. “But I think we can force it through. And even if Shadow Weaver IS mad… well, she was going to be mad anyway. And Hordak… he’s smart, right? Aside from him and Shadow Weaver, we’re the two most powerful people in the fright zone now. We’re resources. He’s not just going to throw that away.”  


She left out the part about her plan to defect anyway making the whole matter moot, and tried to hide that twinge of dishonesty. Something told her that her new second wasn’t ready to follow her into the rebellion quite yet.  


“Maybe," said Catra. "It’d be easier to guess if we’d ever _seen_ Hordak more than once or twice. Sometimes I think he’s just a literal puppet that Shadow Weaver uses to scare us.” She snickered. “I guess the only evidence that she’s not the one really in charge is that the place hasn’t been run into the ground yet. Anyway though…” Her voice dropped to a charged whisper. “Are we going to talk about how I can feel what you’re feeling now? And how I’m pretty sure you can do the same with me.”  


Adora’s glow faded, uncertainty blooming in both of their minds. “I don’t know what that is. I’m sorry. I’m trying not to listen in, but it’s hard…”  


“You managed to not notice a lot of other things over the years. I’m sure with a little practice, you can forget about this too.” Catra’s words accompanied a sudden barb of anger that left them both surprised and taking a single step back from each other.  


“Catra, I…”  


“Look… forget about it, okay? It doesn’t matter right now. Just try to stay out, and I’ll do the same. Now, the most important part.” A twinge of mischief accompanied both her voice and thoughts. “Do I look cool? Because if you turned me into a winged monster and I don’t also get to look cool, I swear that I’ll hurt you.”  


Adora smiled. “You look amazing. Beautiful. Not that you didn’t before, I mean, but… a different kind of amazingly awesome. I need to get you a mirror so you can see.”  


Catra nodded. “I thought that might be right. But hey, I always look good, so it’s not too surprising.” She quirked a smile. “And it looks like you heal fast in that form, along with being stupidly huge.” She reached up and touched Adora’s right cheek, where the bandage had fallen away to reveal a thin, faint red scar, already healed over. “Handy. And now you’ve finally got a good side.” She laughed. “Now order some grunts to set up our tent again. Force Captains and their seconds don’t do that shit.”  


* * *

The backup vehicles arrived only a few hours later. Apparently when it turned out that their mission wasn’t quite the shitshow that it seemed at first, someone in the chain of command had actually sent transports out to take care of their retreating squadron. Most of the troops and their gear were loaded into the boxy transports, and were at least not marching, even if the personnel carriers weren’t particularly comfortable. A few hours more, lagging to protect the slow tanks, and they’d all be back home, ensconced in their barracks, or being debriefed, or put on some other assignment. There was never any lack of work to do in the Fright Zone.  


Catra was not in a transport, nor was she riding on a skiff or inside one of the few remaining tanks. Instead, she soared above the convoy, easily keeping pace with the vehicles below. She felt the wind twine around her, not so much whipping at her hair and fur as stroking it, a reassuring presence that buoyed her up, keeping her high above the others. Up here, the air of the Dustlands was remarkably clear and free of the choking ash churned about at ground level, and the vague haze that inhibited line of sight was gone as well. She could see for miles in any direction, even to the recognizable sullen red glow of home just on the horizon. The first of the incandescent moons was beginning to rise, and painted the scenery in pale violet, making the blasted landscape almost soft in appearance, almost as though they were supposed to look like that. And Catra smiled.  


She could still sense Adora, of course; that presence wasn’t fading from her awareness. Catra could point directly at the transport Adora was riding in, at the very seat she was sitting in (left-hand side, directly behind the driver), even though she hadn’t paid attention to which carrier was which, and had gone circling off in other directions multiple times before rejoining the convoy as the journey went on. She could feel her commanding officer’s worry, and a slight queasiness that Catra luckily didn’t share, and the knowledge gave her a slight smile. Adora was down there in the dust, riding along with the sweat and body odor of a dozen other troops, while Catra…  


Catra flew, and despite the minuscule voice in her head that kept calling Adora _master_ and every other part of herself that rebelled against that pulling it down, had perhaps never felt so free.  


It was different flying like this, while not dodging blasts or trying to position herself for an attack. The other was exhilarating, certainly, and the best kind of challenge, which was to say one that she could defeat and look impressive doing so. But this was _calm._ She’d vaguely thought that she’d known what calm was before now, found in stolen moments when everyone else had left the locker room, or when settling in for the night at the foot of Adora’s bed, but she recognized them for pale shadows of the real thing now. Back in those moments, she could have been interrupted, could have been attacked, could have had it all stolen from her at any time. Here and now, with the whole of the sky empty around her, she was safe. In control.  


The thought entered her mind suddenly, that, if she wanted, she could simply change course and keep flying. Never go back to the Fright Zone, abandon the Horde, and find some new life out here in this brand new world that had opened up before her. She smiled, an honest smile with nobody there to see it, and knew that she wouldn’t be doing that. No, she was going back. She was finally going to be able to face Shadow Weaver down, and she would not miss that opportunity. She was important now. She was strong, and fast, and deadly, and even if it had taken Adora to get her here…  


Well, Adora had said that she couldn’t take this power back, right? So in a way, it _was_ hers now after all. Irrevocable, regardless of what Adora did or wanted. Catra smiled at that too. Not that she would betray Adora, any more than she would abandon the Fright Zone, but something about knowing that she could if she wanted to, that there were no chains tying her to the ground, gave her undeniable pleasure.  


If not for that tiny voice that continued to whisper in her mind, it might have been perfect.  


She rolled, feeling the sky on her wings, that deep instinctive knowledge of flight racing through her, and with newly magnified vision spotted a juvenile dunecrawler scuttling out of the way of the convoy, its myriad legs rippling across the ash as it scrambled. And before she knew it, she was in a dive, stooping on the creature, grasping it in her talons as it wriggled desperately, trying to escape as she rose back with it into the sky.  


The dun-colored exoskeleton of the dunecrawler was as hard as bone, and her claws pierced it effortlessly behind the head, holding it away from her as it twisted frantically, poisoned mandibles snapping at the air, unable to reach her. She remembered these things from survival training; their poison was painful, but not truly dangerous until they reached adulthood. As long as the venom sacs weren’t pierced, the flesh of the creature could be pried out from beneath its carapace, and cooked into something edible, if not flavorful. A suitable emergency ration, if you couldn’t find anything else. Catra, of course, wouldn’t have to cook it. She knew… had been _told,_ in any case, that her kind was perfectly capable of digesting raw meat, and she saw no reason why this oversized bug would be any different.  


Her wings beat steadily as she hovered hundreds of feet in the air, contemplating her catch. _Nah,_ she thought, and let it go. She wasn’t hungry, and there would be plenty of ration bars waiting for her back home. She laughed, raced on, and didn’t stop to watch as the crawler splattered against the ground far below, carapace shattering on impact. There was too much to do today yet, too many confrontations and long-awaited victories to chase, and even if she was faster than any vehicle below her on the dust, she didn’t want to waste time. This was hers and Adora’s day, not the way she had always imagined it, but maybe even better. The day they finally put an end to cruelty, finally saved themselves and each other, finally put their own personal demon in her _place._  


Below, the dunecrawler’s broken legs twitched a scant few times and went still. There was silence among the dust, and in that silence, a cold blue radiance began to form, streaming in through the cracks of the creature’s exoskeleton, knitting it back together. Soon, the crawler began moving again. It righted itself, and sniffed the air curiously, staring after the retreating convoy with newly restored eyes, in which that icy flicker still remained. A moment later, it began following the vehicle tracks. It moved in no great hurry, but was unnoticed by either soldiers or their lone flying sentinel as it made its way inexorably back with them.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that there is rather more emphasis here on Catra’s ability to sense Adora’s emotions and vice versa than there is between Adora and Swift Wind in canon. There are a bunch of explanations for why that difference exists, but they’re all ultimately “because I thought that was interesting.”  
> Swift Wind certainly seems tougher, faster, and stronger than a normal horse, since he’s able to kick metal robot in half, fly with three people, one of them a giantess, on his back, and survive a sustained electric shock capable of incapacitating She-Ra. I see no reason these enhancements wouldn’t have transferred to Catra as well. And I decided that she’d get super-claws instead of a horn because… that seemed more her thing?  
> The name lacertilian is just derived from the latin family name for lizards. I thought it sounded better than Saurian, or Reptilian, and SPoP is not in the habit of giving us species names for the various inhabitants of Etheria.  
> The dunecrawler is dead, long live the dunecrawler.


	3. Two Truths and a Lie.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events do not go as planned.

Shadow Weaver stood silently, watching the returning procession of vehicles and soldiers through her scrying bowl. When she’d ordered the squadron dispatched to Thaymor, she’d expected a return to the status quo at its conclusion. Her worst-case scenario would have been Catra’s failure to retrieve Adora. But the reports she had been given suggested something far more worrying. Failure she could deal with, if not tolerate. But this situation was different. A problem outside of the context of her normal life.  


Adora had suddenly realized all that potential she had once seen in her, but in a spectacular fashion that nobody could have guessed. Catra’s transformation… She could see that for herself even now, as her lesser ward came in for a landing outside the vehicle bays. Disturbing, and unlike any of the magic she was familiar with.  


Her eyes narrowed behind her mask. Initial reports had indicated that Catra had failed to bring Adora back and was despondent over the issue. The obvious, though unpalatable, conclusion was that her daughter had defected. She had only just managed to push down that horrifying thought when the second wave of reports had arrived, and then the third. Even now, she was trying to grasp what it all meant.  


In her bowl, she watched as Adora exited her transport, looking about for a brief moment before her eyes settled on Catra’s gaudy new colors. They approached each other, and Adora clasped Catra’s shoulder in a gesture of solidarity. Not for the first time, Shadow Weaver regretted that her locator spell was incapable of transmitting sound, but she had grown adept over the years at reading expressions.  


Catra was smiling, even as Adora seemed nervous. And then their faces shifted, Catra descending into visible worry alongside Shadow Weaver’s daughter. Another change, as Adora’s expression grew determined and she glanced in the direction of the west bay exit. The exit closest to the Black Garnet chamber.  


_Ah. There it is, then._ Shadow Weaver turned away from her bowl, thinking furiously. Her daughter and her daughter’s pet, returning home, both changed after receiving strange new powers. Looking in her direction. Fearful, but determined.  
She knew what _that_ implied.  


Well, an unforeseen problem just meant that unorthodox tactics would be required. She’d always believed that there was no problem that couldn’t be solved by positioning herself in just the right place, using just the right tools. She nodded to herself as her plans took shape. This would be painful for everyone involved, but they’d be stronger for it in the end. That had always been her story, after all.  


She began.  


* * *

As Adora disembarked, there was already a flurry of shouts directed her way; inquiries, cheers, and demands for debriefing. She did her best to ignore all of it, reminding herself that she was a Force Captain now, and that only a few individuals in the Fright Zone were capable of actually compelling her to stand and explain herself. In the short term at least; if she kept at it, her behavior would undoubtedly be reported to Shadow Weaver. Which was where she was going anyway.  
She looked about for Catra, and found her almost immediately; her coloring, along with the sudden spike of satisfaction from her direction made her unmistakable. Adora approached quickly, and placed a hand on her second’s shoulder, squeezing slightly for comfort, trying her best a failing to smile convincingly. “Hey Catra. Did you... have a nice flight?”  


Her second laughed, and a burst of manic joy hit Adora between the temples. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I had no idea it would be like that. You _still_ don’t know what it’s like. And you never will.” Catra smirked at Adora, which frankly felt good to see, but some of Adora’s own worry must have penetrated her ebullience. “Uh, look, I didn’t mean to… It’s just that I’m trying to see all the good in this that I can, you know? If I have to be your monster, at least I can enjoy the fun parts. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous or anything.”  


_A lie._  


Adora shook her head, forcing that uncomfortable awareness from her mind before she could dwell too much on it. “I’m glad. I’d want you to have some fun too. But now we need to go see her.”  


Catra’s face fell, lines of worry appearing between her eyes. “Now? I mean… obviously we have to see her. That’s why we came back. We need to… to make her answer for all of this _shit_ she put me through. Put us both through. I just thought…” She shook her head. “This is moving fast. Okay, what’s the plan? We bust into the Black Garnet chamber and tackle her before she knows what’s happening? Request a conference, and then ambush her? Shit, I spent all that time just flying around up there; you think I’d at least have come up with one idea of how to take actually take her out.” A pulse of something very near to panic emanated from her, and Adora internally steeled herself.  


Most of that panic deflected from her; some internal separation allowing her to recognize this feeling as Catra’s and not her own, but some of it breached her defenses. If felt like knives on her bones. She took a breath, let it out again, and focused on the goal. She needed to keep Catra safe, needed to free her from Shadow Weaver, needed to convince her that there was no future for her here, not for someone who laughed and cried with the intensity that Catra always had. That there was a bright world just hours away, ready and willing to give her everything she’d ever wanted.  


Determination flowed back into her, and she shook her head at Catra’s suggestions. “No, I don’t think so. We don’t need that. If we just rush her like that, she’ll know that we were afraid of her. Worse, _we’ll_ know that we were afraid. We need to talk to her face to face. We’ll make her explain herself. We’ll make her apologize. And after that, we’ll see.” She looked toward the west exit, toward where she knew Shadow Weaver would be at this time of day. “After everything she’s done to you, she needs to know that she can’t scare you anymore.” Adora’s words sparked tangible anger in her friend, and some part of her felt relieved. That kind of anger could wash away the fear she knew Catra still felt.  


Her friend’s eyes were on her, the blue and yellow irises expanding and contracting in time with her breath. “Fine,” Catra said. “We do it the Adora way, this time. Straight up to the gates, kick in the door, slay the monster.” She raised her hands to Adora’s half-articulated objection. “Metaphorically slay, okay? Unless she tries something first. If so, no promises.” She took a deep breath. “Finally. I’ve been waiting for so many years for you to back me up on this; I’m not going to be the one that backs out now. Let’s go.”  


Adora nodded. “…though we could maybe stand a change of clothes, first. My jacket is… gross, right now, not that I’m going to be dressed like this when we see her. And the back of your top…” She gestured to where the wings had sprouted, tearing through the fabric, and Catra laughed in response.  


“Yeah, okay, but I don’t know what I’ve got in my locker that’s going to fit me now. Just help me cut the back out of something, and you can order them to make new clothes for me later.”  


* * *

Catra stretched her wings wide as she walked through the corridor, an instinctive half-step behind Adora’s massive form. Her friend had once again transformed into her intimidating, luminescent alter ego; the better to demonstrate strength, she’d said. Catra had tried several times to keep up, to walk right beside her, but it was difficult not only to match walking paces now that Adora’s legs were absurdly long, but also because every time she stopped thinking about it, she slowed her pace just enough to allow Adora the lead. It was annoying, and slightly worrying if she allowed herself to dwell on it, but the fact of the matter was that she was more than a little glad to let her captain go first.  


Her wings furled, and unfurled again, to the annoyance of the other soldiers she walked past, who were forced to dodge out of the way. She could feel the aggressive grin on her face at that. _No more looking past me. No more pretending I don’t exist. People are getting out of_ my _way now._  


_And if they are getting out of Adora’s way too,_ she thought, watching the broad back of her eight-foot-tall, glowing friend, _Well, I suppose she’s earned it. We’re the monsters stalking these halls now._  


Monsters about to enter the lair of another monster. All her feelings jumbled together, one moment full of grim anticipation, the next overcome by such terror that she kept looking at the ceiling, wishing it were open air so that she could just take off flying. She wished that they’d been able to tailor something better for her top than simply cutting out a hole for her wings, something that made her look _serious,_ rather than improvised at the last moment. She eyed Adora’s back again. _Something like that, maybe? No… not the same colors. I’ve already got enough white on me now. More contrast, then, though I like the accents. And I’m distracting myself from how scared I am, again. And Adora can feel it._  


As if on cue, Adora half turned, shooting a look of concern at Catra, causing her cheeks to burn with sullen embarrassment. _I have to control this. I’ve got no reason to be afraid anymore, but here I am, cowardly and weak, and hesitant and she knows it. Why would she even want someone this pathetic around? How long before she realizes that she doesn’t need me?_  


She shook her head, banishing those thoughts. Adora _did_ need her, or at least her magic did. She’d said so herself. And they were in each other’s heads now, as creepy as that situation was. They were stuck together, firmer than ever, knowledge that was both relieving and… something else. Something she chose not to dwell on.  


Somehow, without realizing it, they were in front of the door to the Black Garnet chamber. She swallowed involuntarily, a sense of dread growing within her. Adora glanced in her direction, obviously feeling the emotion, and Catra attempted to banish it, attempted to lock the feeling away so that Adora wouldn’t know of her cowardice.  


“Are you ready for this?” whispered Adora, a look of concern on her face. Catra nodded, trying to keep a flush of embarrassment and anger from her cheeks.  


“Let’s get this over with,” Catra muttered. She pressed the panel, and the door slid open to reveal the dimly lit chamber beyond. The lights had been turned down lower than usual, not that Catra’s vision was impeded, and the glow of the runestone itself was a steady deep red, barely strong enough to touch the walls.  


Shadow Weaver herself stood between the Garnet and her scrying bowl, back turned to them. “It took you longer than expected to come for me. I expect you were frightened. How long did it take for Adora to put some steel in your backbone, Catra? She has the fortitude to face me. You? Never. I can’t even imagine how she talked you into it.”  


Catra’s hands clenched hard enough to feel the tendons straining.  


“As soon as I saw the reports, I knew you’d come for me. Somehow, you’ve gained power. Borrowed from Adora, I expect. I did not expect you to attain power this way, Adora. You were always destined for greatness, but I never imagined something like this.” She turned around, looking Adora straight in the eyes, ignoring Catra as though she wasn’t there. “So, how did it happen? The ‘princess mind control device’ is a ridiculous excuse, by the way. Catra’s idea, I assume. You really shouldn’t let her come up with the plans; that one might deceive the fools among the rank and file, but neither I nor Lord Hordak will believe it for a second. If the princesses had such a weapon, they certainly wouldn’t give the affected such power, not if it could be resisted. No, this is something else.” She paused. “…Though I did not know what until now. Is that a runestone I feel, in that outsized blade of yours?”  


Catra snuck a peek at Adora, whose expression had developed a tinge of uncertainty. _Why isn’t she saying something? The whole plan was to call her out, not stand here and listen to her insult me. Or does she just not care enough to stop it? That would be like her. Same old Adora,”_ she thought, bitterly.  


Shadow Weaver sighed. “Really though, Adora. You shouldn’t have wasted your new strength on empowering _Catra_ of all people. I can think of any number of candidates for such enhancement more worthy than her.” She paused. “Of course, she has always been your favorite pet. Perhaps marking your ownership of her was only to be expected.”  


There was no conscious thought as Catra launched herself across the room at Shadow Weaver. There was only a breaking sensation in her head, and blazing rage. Her throat burned with the force of a scream she couldn’t hear over the shattering in her mind. Her movement was a blur, faster than she’d ever moved, even when attacking the soldiers back at camp. Her claws were fully extended, reaching for her tormentor’s mask, at the deformed eyes she knew lay beneath. Adora reached forward as if to stop her, but was far, far too slow.  


And then there was pain, as she collided with an unyielding invisible wall. Her vision, dimmed from the shock, saw three concentric circles of violet light appear on the floor around her as she crashed to the floor, stopped halfway between the entrance and the spot where Shadow Weaver stood, shaking her head as though in pity.  


_Pity._  


* * *

Adora watched in horror as Catra slammed into the magical trap, rebounding hard enough that she was sure her friend must have broken bones. She stepped forward, finally allowing the anger she’d been feeling on Catra’s behalf this whole time to show on her face, raising a hand to strike the barrier. She was fairly certain she could break it, given her new strength.  


Shadow Weaver raised her own hand. “Adora, I wouldn’t do that. If you think Catra is hurting now, you won’t want to see what happens if my wards are broken. I have three of them, nested inside each other. Upon breaking, each will deliver a truly excruciating amount of pain to her. Not enough to kill, but enough to very much make her wish she were dead.”  


Adora’s fist stopped in mid strike, and she looked from Shadow Weaver to Catra, who lay groaning on the floor, trying to right herself, in dismay. “You… you wouldn’t do that.”  


“I most certainly would. You’ve seen me do as much many times before. Or did you make yourself not see?”  


Adora flushed, in anger and embarrassment.  


_“I didn’t know. I don’t know how I didn’t know, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry, Catra”_ She’d said it to Catra only hours ago. A lie, she realized.  


“Ah, I see. I should have expected, I suppose,” said Shadow Weaver, a note of disappointment entering her voice.  


“Stop it!” said Adora, voice rose to a shout. “Maybe I was stupid enough to let this happen before, but if you don’t let her go _right now,_ I swear that I’ll…”  


“Stupid?” said Shadow Weaver, that disappointment remaining in her voice. “No, you’re not stupid, Adora. Your problem is something deeper. You, my child, are disloyal. You always have been.”  


Time seemed to stop. Her mind raced, trying to figure out how her commanding officer could possibly know about her plan to defect, feeling panic and raising her sword to defend herself against the attack she half expected to fly her direction. It did not.  


“Time and time again, I’ve offered you the opportunity to stop me when I hurt Catra. Time and time again, you failed to do so.” The masked sorceress shook her head. “Did we not teach you loyalty to your teammates while growing up? Of all my lessons, that is the one that never seemed to sink in.”  


_No. That’s not how it was. I tried to protect…_  


Shadow Weaver sighed. “When I hurt your friend, you only ever objected in ways that posed no risk to you. When I told you that your team would be staying behind for your mission, you barely bothered to object. If you insisted, I would have acquiesced; you are a Force Captain now, after all, and have a right to choose your own squadron. But instead you backed down again, more concerned with holding your new position than standing up for those who should be able to trust you as their advocate.”  


Adora was silent, any words she might have said in response dying in her throat as shame flooded her. She felt small, despite her towering stature. Shadow Weaver was a tall woman, and floating some inches off the ground besides, but as She-Ra, Adora should have better than a foot of height on her. Instead, she felt as though she were the size of a child as her commanding officer, her _mother,_ pelted her with stinging truths. From the corner of her eye, she saw Catra flinch as she caught the edge of Adora’s shame.  


_I couldn’t have done more, could I? She told me no. If I’d pressed the issue…_ She tried desperately to think of an instance that she’d ever been punished for that.  


“Why do you think I hurt her, all those years? You should know by now that I never do anything without a reason. I was waiting for one of you to put a stop to it. I thought it would be you, Adora, but you never did. Not until you gained the power to ensure your safety and position. Your life has been a test, my child. You have failed it.”  


_Failed._  


The dark sorceress finally turned backed to Catra as Adora lowered her sword and fist, unable to process the realization of the flaw that she had somehow never seen in herself.  


“And you, Catra. You were being tested too. So clever, so imaginative. A perfect second… perhaps even a Force Captain in your own right one day. Except that you are reckless, and worse, cowardly.”  


Catra hissed, obviously outraged, anger and renewed embarrassment washing against Adora’s consciousness, along with something that Adora dimly realized was self-hatred. Scenes of Catra rushing in when she wasn’t supposed to, of her hanging back during the hard sections of training, of her just now being so hesitant to confront her tormentor raced through Adora’s mind.  


Shadow Weaver shrugged. “It took me seconds to provoke you into an attack once you entered this room. And you never would have even contemplated it if you hadn’t been so empowered and had Adora finally backing you up. One lunge at me while growing up; that’s all it would have taken to end the pain forever. If you had ever proven to me that you were unwilling to simply accept pain for fear of your own life, it would have stopped.  


_Is that true? Catra is feeling… she’s angry. But her face doesn’t look like she thinks Shadow Weaver is lying. I think._  


"I waited for years for you to grow a spine. You were so talented, so skilled. But in the face of any real opposition, you wilted like a delicate, dying flower.” She paused. “I’ll wager that when Adora defeated that squadron in her… ill advised… outburst, you simply ran, didn’t you, rather than face her.”  


_She had._  


The shame beating against the edges of Adora’s mind intensified, and she interrupted, denying the accusation as best she could. “No, Shadow Weaver! I wasn’t myself. I might have hurt her if she hadn’t…”  


_Catra backed away, concealing herself in the smoke._  


“Shut up!” screamed Catra “You weren’t there, you don’t know a damn thing about what happened. You stay here in your _fucking_ chamber, watching us fight without ever risking so much as dirt on your robe, and you call me…”  


“Silence!” Shadow Weaver seemed to grow, looming over the both of them. The darkness around her coalesced into tendrils that moved across them, pricking Adora’s skin like freezing needles. And Catra fell silent. Shadow Weaver sighed. “You see? One loud noise from me, and where does all that fury go? You are a scared child, and always have been. These are my children: one too inconstant to fight for what she cares about, and the other too frightened to fight back.”  


Despite everything, despite her threatening Catra, despite all the lies over the years, Adora still wanted to cry at the thought of not measuring up.  


“I suppose I must blame myself,” said Shadow Weaver, once again shaking her head in disappointment. “I did try to raise you correctly… but I was unable to extricate those flaws from you. And now I am forced to simply _tell_ you of them, to attempt to shame you into finally facing your weaknesses, since it is clear you will not do it on your own.”  


Adora’s head felt as though it were consumed by fog, and from the looks of Catra’s dismayed expression, she wasn’t the only one. “But… why did it have to be so hard on her? Why couldn’t you have taught us some other way?” She felt like she was missing something, that there was some argument she could have made, some magic words she could speak to turn this all around, but all she could think of was “disloyal.” Her sword dropped from her hand, and without quite realizing she had done so, she released her power. Strength fled her limbs as she shrank to her normal size and fell to her knees. She saw Catra slump to the floor as well, a numb expression on her face. She couldn’t sense anything from her now.  


“I was harsh because I was preparing you for a harsh task,” said her mother. “Don’t you understand yet?” She sighed. “Let me tell you a story, one from my past. I was not born here, as you can imagine. No, I hail from a place of powerful magic: the floating kingdom of Mystacor, where I was once known as Light Spinner.”  


Adora felt confusion; the only emotion left to her. Why was Shadow Weaver saying this now?  


“I was respected there. Revered, even, as one of the greatest sorceresses to ever walk its halls. But I flatter myself to think that more than mere power distinguished me. I had foresight that none of the others did, and when the Horde first took control of the Scorpion Kingdom, I seemed to be the only one who recognized the danger they posed. Who realized that they had to be stopped, no matter the cost.”  


Adora’s eyes grew wide with shock at Shadow Weaver’s words. “But…” She looked around fearfully, convinced that she’d catch a glimpse of a small, skittering form in the air vents. “Why tell us this now? Why _join_ the Horde if you wanted to stop…” Something clicked in her mind, and her mother nodded, as if recognizing the fact.  


“I couldn’t convince my peers to act. They were fools. Cowards, and shortsighted ones at that. They believed the Princesses enough to contain the threat. Well, you can see how well that has gone. I gathered what power I could, and left them, offering my services to Hordak in order to get close to him.” She laughed ruefully. “I didn’t realize at the time how formidable he would be. I needed allies. Strong allies, powerful enough to help me destroy him for good. It was for this purpose that I raised the two of you. Each of you had something special in you, and I knew that if I were ever to find anyone who could help, it would be you two. But you failed your tests. You weren’t as strong as I had hoped you would be. I have long feared that your weaknesses would prevent you from acting as you should at the moment of truth.” She paused, following Adora’s gaze. “You needn’t worry. Warding this chamber against Hordak’s spies is a simple matter. In the event that he is attempting to listen in, he will merely observe me berating you, as he no doubt expects. Now, children, do you understand why I had to prepare you? Hordak is not a foe to be taken lightly. He will attempt to frighten you, to turn us against each other. To weaken us. You must be proof against such attacks, or it is we who shall fall, when the time comes.”  


Her voice was somehow soothing. A flower of hope bloomed in Adora’s mind that maybe, despite everything, despite her weakness, she could still be on the side of right.  


“You didn’t have to…” Catra muttered, barely loud enough for Adora to hear, just as Adora said “But why not tell us this before?”  


“Because I couldn’t trust you. You were too weak to be trusted. Now, however, I have no choice. It is either this, or allow him to gain your loyalty instead, and that would spell doom for all the free peoples of the world, just as I foretold so long ago.” She paused. “So try to justify the faith I once had in you. Let this new power you have gained lift you up to what you always should have been.”  


_I should have been better. Maybe I can be now._  


She turned, showing her back to the both of them, and her barrier circles faded into nothingness as she did. “Now leave me. Adora, move into your Force Captain’s quarters. Catra, you may move yourself in her serjeant’s room; I heard that you have received a field promotion, and I am inclined to let it stand. Think on what I have said. You can, of course, go to Hordak with news of my plans, and he will no doubt have me removed. Adora will take my place, and you, Catra, will no doubt become Force Captain yourself. And that situation will last until he can put a knife in your backs, because he will never allow underlings so close to him to have so much power. Or you can join me, and we can change the Horde. Stop it from the inside. Perhaps even transform it into a force for good in this world. Go.”  


Adora stood up, retrieving the sword from where it lay. Adora watched numbly as Catra tested the walls of her prison, and apparently finding them absent, stood up as well. The Force Captain, mind still almost blank, stumbled over to support her friend, only to be shrugged off with a glare and a forceful buffet of her wing.  


There was still nothing, no emotion from Catra pressing against her mind.  


Catra walked toward the door, and Adora followed, deeply aware of Shadow Weaver’s silence behind them. The door opened, then closed again on the other side of them. “Catra…” Adora said hesitantly. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize all this time that I’d been…”  


“Save it,” Catra said cutting her off. “We had a plan, and if you really cared about me, you would have stopped her no matter what kind of pain she caused me. But you didn’t think I could take it, did you? You think I’m a coward too.” Her bitter voice stung Adora’s ears, caused her to flinch. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. Permission to gather my things to move quarters, Force Captain?” Now Adora could sense something from her, a nauseating mix of anger, shame, resentment, and disappointment. It was all Adora could do not to throw her arms around her friend, but she knew that those feeling were directed at her, and that if she did, she would end up with nothing but bloody wounds for the trouble.  


Sorrow weighing her down. Adora could only respond with a quiet “Permission granted.” And Catra walked away, not bothering to look back at her.  


* * *

“You heard the conversation then, my lord?” Shadow Weaver stood in front of Hordak’s throne, fingers steepled and gaze respectfully lowered. On the throne itself, Hordak sat, a contemplative expression on his face while his disturbing, disgusting little imp curled itself in his lap. Not for the first time, Shadow Weaver wished she could simply dispose of the creature.  


“Of course I did. You did well, Shadow Weaver, to tell me of this in advance; there are no secrets from me in the fright zone, and if I had heard you say such traitorous things without knowing them for a ruse, you might not have lived long enough to explain yourself.” Those glowing red eyes glowered at her, and despite her knowledge of his physical weakness, she felt fear.  


_Who knows what defenses and traps he’s laid here? I could destroy him in combat... but I might be dead before I could move if I tried._ Instead, she nodded. “I thought that might be the case. Now those two are divided, and divided they are far less dangerous. I can keep them distracted, I believe, for a long time by playing them against each other, and through ineffective attempts at ‘subterfuge’ against you. Long enough for you to gain use out of them. They are formidable assets. Deployed correctly, they might be your greatest weapons.”  


Hordak watched her, expressionless for a few moments before nodding. “They will serve me until they become problems. It will be your job to keep them in line. And if they show signs of turning against you, against _me,_ you will dispose of them.”  


Shadow Weaver hesitated. _Damn. He has to know… and I have to admit it._ “My lord, if they turn, I… do not believe that I would be able to defeat them. Certainly not together. It was only through careful preparation that I was able to so easily deal with them today. Without that preparation…” She grimaced behind her mask. “They are very powerful. More so, I think, than even they know. That power is what makes them useful, but might I suggest poison, or some other means rather than direct confrontation?”  


“Poison is too slow for an event that might occur at any moment, but I agree, and commend you once again for your honesty. You are not capable of defeating them. Not alone.”  
She frowned. “But who else could possibly aid me against them? I would not ask you to risk yourself,” _as though that would make a difference,_ “and they have proven capable of defeating innumerable numbers of common soldiers.”  


Hordak rose from his throne, the imp climbing up to perch on his shoulder. “You know very well that we have a fallback plan. There is one other here in the Fright Zone who might be a match for them. If she were properly empowered.” He paused. “See to it.”  


A spike of panic flashed through Shadow Weaver’s thoughts. “But my Lord! Doing this will drain much of my own power! I will no longer be nearly as effective in your employ. Surely you cannot mean to rob me of…”  


“I cannot rob you of what you do not own, Shadow Weaver.” Hordak’s glare narrowed. “Do we have to have this conversation again?”  


Shadow Weaver held her tongue, fuming where her sickly but still dangerous overlord could not see.  


“I did not think so. You will make it happen. Now leave me.”  


She bowed, turned, and floated from his presence, still concealing her rage and disappointment. _Foolish. Of course he would be so short sighted. He always trades subtlety for brute force._ Exiting the room, she paused to take a deep, shuddering breath. With a wave of her hand, she summoned up an inky shadow, which stared at her with a single baleful eye. “Go to Force Captain Scorpia and give her this message. She is to report immediately to the Black Garnet chamber to be connected to her runestone, by order of Lord Hordak himself.”  


The shadow messenger fled down the halls, seeking out its target, and Shadow Weaver began moving back towards her sanctum, angered at the knowledge that so much of her power was to be given over to another. Even if she would ultimately control that power. Even if she knew that it would ultimately be hers again, in time.  


She moved faster. There were alterations to make to the runestone before Scorpia could be allowed to connect. Failsafes to put in place. Scorpia was loyal, but somewhat simple, and it was important that once the time came, they could be sure that she would perform her task, whether she knew it or not.  


* * *

At the outer edge of the Fright Zone, two masked guards stood with the unmistakable air of total boredom. If anyone were to attempt to breach the perimeter, they’d hear about it long before it got to their position, so they both were fairly certain that their posting was for show. Something for Force Captain Octavia to point at in front of Shadow Weaver as proof of how seriously she took Fright Zone security. As it was, they barely noticed the _tink_ as something knocked aside a fallen screw, sending it skittering across the concrete. One of the guards raised his hand, motioning for his comrade to back him up, and advanced with his baton raised.  


He rounded the corner of the guardhouse, and immediately cried out in alarm as a juvenile dunecrawler lunged at him, vicious mandibles biting clean through the thinner protective layer above his knee. He screamed in pain as the poison surged into him; it felt like his leg was being dipped in molten metal, and that fire began to spread through his body as his blood carried it relentlessly though his veins. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was unlikely to die from this, but it certainly didn’t feel like it in the moment. He was barely aware of his partner dispatching the beast with a single, well aimed shot to the head, which left a charred hole in the creature’s carapace.  


“Damn! Are you okay?”  


He could feel his partner supporting him, holding him off the ground. He tried to say something in response, but all that came out was a tiny whimper.  


“Fuck. This is guard squad Beta 2-6-1-Outer. I’ve got a man down. Bite from a dunecrawler. He’s in a lot of pain.”  


There was a short pause before the reply. “Acknowledged. Sending a skiff your way to transport him to medical. Just sit tight; we’ll take care of him.”  


His partner sighed in relief. “Hear that, buddy? We’re gonna get you patched up, good as new.” He broke open his field medical kit, and began wrapping a bandage around the wound, staunching the flow of blood. “And then you’ll get to take a break for a couple of days. Lucky you, huh? Everything’s gonna be okay.”  


Eventually the skiff came for him, and another guard took his place as he was loaded aboard. The skiff sped off toward the medical facilities, and nobody involved noticed that some of the blood around the poorly wrapped bandage was just slightly shimmering with a ghostly blue light, almost too faint to be perceived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shadow Weaver is a horrible, vicious monster. There is more I could say about that, but you probably get it already.


	4. Interlocking Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first day back in the fright zone. Things continue to not go as planned.

Chapter 4: Interlocking Pieces

In her new quarters, Adora turned one way, and then another, and back again, trying to find some perfect combination of limb positions that would allow her to finally fall asleep. The room was too small for someone who had grown up in cavernous barracks with dozens of other cadets, but too big for her alone, and too quiet without the breathing of a full platoon creating familiar white noise. The bed was just slightly too soft, and somehow too large; she thought she could get used to it in time, but for the moment, it felt unstable despite lying on the ground like any other bed, and oddly as though a reassuring touch had been removed. 

One literally had been. _Catra usually sleeps down at the end of the bed,_ she thought, dull and heavy with tiredness. _My feet are cold, and I can’t feel her motion, and I can feel her being miserable and alone too…_

It wasn’t a thought she was comfortable with. She loved Catra, of course. Best friends, comrades in arms, sisters, and maybe something else that she wasn’t yet ready to define. But her absence left such a hole in Adora, made worse by the sure knowledge that it was all her fault.

_Disloyal._

Obviously she didn’t love Catra as much as she thought she had. Not as much as she loved being the favorite. The best. The one on the fast track to promotion… and that fact that she had received that promotion again made her feel vaguely ill, as it had back in Thaymor. _No matter what I do, I’m always hurting someone. Has anything in my life been right?_

Her thoughts were the only loud things in the room, and they were deafening. Catra was in the somewhat-smaller room adjacent to her, separated by maybe five inches of concrete, and it felt like the distance from here to Atala (she wasn’t exactly sure what that place was like, but knew that it was on the very edge of the Horde’s maps, and that felt about right). Those thoughts crowded against all of her senses: the five she was accustomed to, and her newly acquired and very narrow sixth. It was only when she opened her eyes in frustration from her insomnia that she realized that her new second, and maybe former friend, was standing in the now-open doorway. What little light there was silhouetted her in the threshold; a dim outline only barely perceptible even to eyes accustomed to the dark. No visible expression and no words. Catra stood, stance solid, but quivering just a bit, and her mind was a tangled mess of feelings, like it had been for hours.

Adora had no idea how long Catra had been there, but she knew that while she was nearly blind in this darkness, Catra would be able to see her perfectly, and a plucked note of fear rang in her head. Catra was standing, was faster than Adora… much faster… could see her perfectly, had every reason to hate her, and her new sword was just out of reach, leaning against the wall and thus about as useful as a stuffed animal. She had the knife under her pillow, of course (she’d tried to transform the sword back into a dagger again to use instead, but hadn’t been able to figure it out.), but Catra would see any motion she made toward it, and she wasn’t sure she could drag it out first. _I used to think I was pretty quick. Maybe not like her, but quick enough. Stupid._ For some reason, the already-healed scar over her cheekbone burned.

The two stared at each other in the dark, Adora knowing that Catra could see her awareness, could hear the increased pace of her breathing, could feel the fear and uncertainty, and could probably reach her vitals before Adora could do anything about it. Her mind, usually so full of goals and plans and possible solutions, was silent except for the fear, and Catra’s and her own resonating turmoil. Finally, Catra spoke, her voice a soft whisper that, even in the silence, was too small. “I can’t sleep.”

Adora blinked, something she hadn’t done since seeing her there in the doorway.

“I can’t sleep,” Catra repeated. “I’ve never slept alone before. It’s weird. And these wings make it difficult. I don’t normally sleep on my back anyway, but now I _can’t,_ and that bugs me somehow. And I can hear you whining inside your head, and it’s keeping me up.” Her voice sounded as though it was attempting a tone of accusation, but it didn’t quite reach the mark. “Can I come…” she paused, shaking her head in time to a sliver of anger. “I’m coming in. It’s just for tonight, okay? I’ll get used to sleeping alone tomorrow.”

Still confused, but with fear rapidly evaporating, Adora silently nodded, and Catra walked to the bed, curled up on it in her accustomed position at Adora’s feet, and muttered to herself. “It’s too soft.”

“I think so, too,” whispered Adora. “But we’ll get used to it.”

Sleep followed soon after.

* * *

Catra was still asleep when Adora woke, which brought a smile to her face. Her friend had always preferred sleeping in on those rare occasions when she was allowed, and it was nice to see that this at least hadn’t changed. Her second snored lightly, wings twitching in time to some dream she was still experiencing, and Adora took a long moment to appreciate the changes to her once-familiar form. The wings, of course. Yellow and blue and pink and purple, bright intrusions of color into the dull green of the standard-issue Horde color scheme, but her lighter coat and copper hair as well. It was a startling contrast, as if Catra had had somehow bathed in light, and now wore it like clothing. Adora’s eyes shifted to the gold of Catra’s claws, and looked away, refusing to think about that part. Beneath Catra’s lids, Adora knew that her heterochromatic eyes, at least, were unchanged.

She slipped out of bed, taking care to be especially quiet, but was unsurprised when Catra’s eyes cracked open. They’d done this dance a few times before.

“Hey Adora. Morning.” Catra’s voice was still heavy from sleep, but her eyes, though half closed, were clear, and Adora could feel the instant alertness in her friend’s mind. She smiled inwardly at the bluff, realizing that only yesterday she probably would have fallen for it and genuinely believed Catra to still be bleary and confused.

“Morning. Sorry to wake you up. I just figured that I probably have a lot to do today, and you know that I…”

“Don’t like sleeping in,” finished Catra. “Yeah, yeah, I know, lucky me. As long as you don’t start expecting me to get up with you every morning. Like I said, sleeping in your bed was a one-time thing. I just needed one night before I start doing this on my own.” For some reason, both her voice and mind were nearly clear of hostility. Not entirely; there was a tangible thread of something bitter lurking below, somehow rising and falling like a heartbeat, but she was in far better spirits than Adora had expected. “I’ve probably got things to do today too. Lonnie’s gonna be pissed about my promotion. You probably didn’t see her in the convoy yesterday. She looked like she was going to spit the whole time.”

“Lonnie’s your friend,” Adora said absently, spying a thick folder on her personal desk that definitely hadn’t been there last night. “She was probably just angry that you beat her up and got away with it.”

Catra blinked slowly, still pretending sluggishness. “I did?”

“Yeah. She was in the personnel transport with me on the way back. She has a bruise all over the side of her face. You might have kicked her, or hit her with your wing when you were…”

“Rampaging?”

 _Panicking,_ thought Adora, but instead said “Yeah, that. Anyway, she’ll be happy for you once the swelling goes down.” Catra snorted, but Adora barely noticed, instead picking up the folder. “What’s this?”

“Somebody dropped it in your… letter slot thing… earlier. I heard them, and brought it in. Probably official Force Captain business. Maybe there’s official sergeant business waiting for me in my room. I guess I’ll find out when I wake up.” She closed her eyes again, and Adora felt a drift in her mind as Catra actually slipped back into somnolence.

Smiling again, thinking that just maybe things might be all right after all…

_Disloyal._

…Adora opened the folder and began scanning the contents. “Huh. Force Captain orientation. That makes sense.” She quickly dressed, and walked purposefully out the door. Even if she was planning on leaving soon, she’d never been late for training before and wasn’t about to start now.

* * *

Catra woke.

It was later now, and Adora was somewhere else now, in another section of the main tower. Good. It was easier, somehow, to fight the thing inside her that kept pushing down her anger, kept commanding her to be forgiving and generous and obedient to her commander when she wasn’t within line of sight. Earlier she’d had to fight to remember that she was upset, to remember what Adora really thought of her, to remember that, for all that she loved her friend, she couldn’t be trusted to come through when it really mattered.

_Coward._

…Though there were some things she didn’t mind forgetting as well. Regardless, now that Adora was out of the room, Catra felt clearer. _Okay, angry, yeah, but I know how to deal with that. At least that’s_ mine. She tiptoed from Adora’s room to her own, trying to make as little noise as possible, in order to retrieve the cut-out bodysuit she’d discarded last night, which was the only thing she could comfortably wear. Her right wing brushed the side of the door, forcing her to adjust her position, and making a small thump that had Catra wincing. _Not enough that I’m colorful as an eight-moon sky now, my sense of where my body is and my center of gravity are off. How the hell am I supposed to sneak like this?_ In the back of her mind, she was already evaluating alternative strategies for combat and found that she didn’t particularly like any of them.

Picking the clothing up, she twisted her face into a grimace. It was still clean, more or less, even if she had sweated into it some while enduring Shadow Weaver’s attentions. But it was a makeshift, patchwork, amateurish kludge, and some part of her couldn’t help but believe that things might have gone better if she’d just been dressed right, if she’d had more reason to feel confident. She pursed her lips as she thought, slipping on the outfit with some difficulty. _Might be able to kill two rebels with one shot here._

She squared herself, and walked from the common room to the squad barracks. Things were still in disarray; Lonnie and Kyle and Rogelio and some of the recently graduated soldiers now assigned to Adora’s recently formed squad hadn’t had much time to move their things in from the trainee quarters, and it showed, bringing a sharp-toothed grin to Catra’s face. The team was still going through the motions of getting ready for the day, and had stopped dead upon seeing their new sergeant enter the room. Lonnie scowled, and Catra’s grin grew wider.

“What the hell is this? You’re still not ready for the day? I’ve been up and working for hours,” she lied, “and Adora was up even before that.” _Why did I add that in?_ “From now on, you double time it in the morning. Things are different now that I’m your boss, and you’re going to act like it.”

“Adora’s our boss,” muttered Lonnie, only to be slammed up against the far wall in a bare instant as a smiling Catra grasped her by the front of her shirt and shoved.

“No, Adora is _my_ boss,” she said, and silently cursed her mouth for using those particular words, _“I_ am _your_ boss. If she’s not around, you do what I say, and you do it with a fucking smile. Unless anyone thinks that the Force Captain isn’t going to listen when I report you for insubordination?” She watched in some satisfaction as every other pair of eyes in the room failed to meet her own. “Okay, first order of business. Lonnie, Rogelio, you’re corporals now. I can’t do that, but Adora can, and she will. Kyle, you’re quartermaster and… I dunno. Executive assistant. Whatever keeps us from having to save your ass on an actual battlefield.” She watched as Kyle’s face alternated between shame and relief, while Lonnie looked stunned at her small promotion so soon after being called out. _This is amazing. I could do this every day for the rest of my life._

“First order of… _second_ order of business: pick your platoons; I don’t care how. Then report to training immediately. Some of you were worthless and downright pathetic yesterday. You got your asses handed to you by Adora, and then by me, and before that to Sparkle Princess and Crop-Top. That. Is. Not. Acceptable.” She paused, savoring the silence that greeted her. “So we’re going over what went wrong and fixing it. It’s not going to be long before Adora… before we are sent back into active duty. This _will_ be the most elite squad in the Horde, and you don’t get a break until that happens. So _move!”_

The squad began rushing out the door, some with hair still unbrushed or boots unlaced, and Catra didn’t care whatsoever, so long as they were running. She caught Kyle by the sleeve as he passed by, holding him in place. Kyle visibly gulped. “Not you, idiot. You’re my assistant or whatever now, and I need you for a project. You can draw, right? I’ve seen that dumb picture hanging in Rogelio’s locker, and I know that he didn’t draw that romantic bullshit.”

“Um…” Kyle turned bright red and stammered. “I…I mean, a little, I guess. I’m not great at it. Just… just a little sketching…”

“I know you’re not great at it, I’ve seen the pictures, stupid. But you’re good enough for what I need.” She began dragging him toward the common room, and forced him in a seat at the main table, then retrieved a pad of paper and some pencils from the supply cabinet. “I’m going to describe an outfit, and you’re going to draw it exactly the way I tell you. Then when I decide you’re done with that, you’re going to start organizing the duty roster.”

Kyle looked at her, obviously confused, and Catra leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You lucked out, Kyle. This is the easy job. It’s the job where you’re least likely to screw up. But if you manage it anyway, I’ll be retraining you personally. Understand?”

He gulped, and quickly nodded. Catra smiled again. _Coward, huh? Let’s see what she says once I have this whole squad afraid of me._

* * *

Adora sat in the conference room, going over her notes long after orientation had ended. The process had been simple enough; three staff sergeants, each familiar with a primary aspect of Horde operations, had lectured her, drawn diagrams, given her files and handouts. They had explained, in greater detail than she had ever realized existed, the tasks and procedures that allowed the Horde to function. She also now knew far more about her own privileges and responsibilities as Force Captain than she had before, and perhaps more than she wanted to know about the manpower and material capabilities of the Horde, as well as its primary officers.

She frowned, circling a column of numbers. _This many soldiers per division, this many available heavy and light mechanized vehicles, this many support and assault bots… If it weren’t for the whispering woods, the Rebellion would have been over a long time ago. There’s no way that they have anything like enough soldiers to deal with this. Bow is good, and Glimmer’s powers are effective when she uses them right, but this is a totally different scale. I had no idea we had so much._ She shook her head, trying not to think of the percentage of that massive force that was now under her direct command. 

She’d been surprised too at the level of autonomy allowed her. Shadow Weaver, or less likely, Hordak himself could give her absolute orders, and set goals for her, but she was, apparently, given wide latitude on how to approach and conceive her own projects. Every Force Captain had their own area of specialization, of tasks they had taken as their own. Octavia was de facto chief of Fright Zone security, while Grizzlor and Hisse preferred field commands. And then there was the odd one out…

A Princess, right here in the fright zone. The Princess of the Scorpion Kingdom. It made a certain amount of sense, she supposed. The Scorpions themselves were tough, strong creatures. They weren’t allowed entry into the Horde’s ranks, or access to weapons, but relegated to labor and construction. Adora could see the edges of the problem. Their sheer physical prowess, to say nothing of their paralytic stings, could make them a real problem in a close fight, if they ever chose to rise up. If they ever got their hands on real weaponry.

If their Princess wasn’t a Force Captain in the Horde, both representing them and playing her part as a hostage to their good behavior.

Nobody said it that way, of course. But there were no troops listed under Scorpia’s command, no sub-officers, and no official responsibilities. The Princess had the rank and all the privileges, but didn’t seem to be trusted with much. She wasn’t even allowed to have her magic, apparently. Frankly, on paper, it was hard to tell what Scorpia did at all. So, hostage it was. Adora grimaced, and wondered at how cynical she’d managed to become in a couple of days. She’d been shown the cracks in the Horde’s veneer of civility and order, and now she couldn’t stop seeing them everywhere.

She needed to get out of here as quickly as possible, before something in her broke forever.

She had stood up from the table, gathered her things under her arm, and turned to leave, when she heard a knock on the door, the sound an oddly resonant _clang._ Frowning, she opened the door, only to be confronted by the exact person she’d been thinking of. Scorpia towered over her, the older Force Captain’s brawny, broad-shouldered form practically filling the doorway, nearly as large as Adora in her She-Ra form and far more intimidating, with her carapace, massive claws, and glistening stinger peeking above her left shoulder. Then Adora saw the smile, exhaled, allowing some part within her to do the same.

Force Captain Scorpia smiled, and it was the first thing Adora had seen since returning that had no cracks. It was bright, and hopeful, and filled with an earnest desire for happiness… for both of them. Scorpia was a bit older than Adora, old enough that there were a few tiny creases around her eyes, as though she laughed enthusiastically and often, and before Adora really understood what was going on, she’d been enveloped in a warm, if somewhat prickly embrace.

“Force Captain Adora! I’m Force Captain Scorpia, and gosh, it’s just great to meet you. How’s your day been? Reading up on your orientation stuff? Man, I remember that. Mostly. Didja read the stuff about Salineas yet, because that’s pretty interesting, and we’ll need it when… oh!”

Adora felt a sharp convulsion run through her body, like touching a live cable, and involuntarily punctured her jacket on Scorpia’s protrusions. Scorpia dropped her immediately, and Adora sucked in a long, grateful breath of air while attempting to blink away the sudden dizziness that came with that shock.

Scorpia’s face twisted into contrite worry, and she grabbed at Adora’s jacket with her pincers, tearing it slightly more as she attempted to help her stand up straight. “I am so, so sorry about that! I’m not good at controlling that yet at all. I keep accidentally blowing out lights, and I broke a door panel yesterday, and I think I might have knocked a commissary worker unconscious when I handed him my tray. I’ll get the hang of it soon though, I promise. Definitely in time for anything important. Are you okay? Not unconscious?”

“No…” Adora shook her head, trying to dispel a bit of the confusion. “Um, sorry, what happened? You came in and hugged me, and then…?” She ran her hands over her now-torn jacket, sighing as she realized that it was likely beyond easy repair.

“I gave you a teensy shock, sorry. Totally an accident, I promise. Shadow Weaver just connected me to my family’s runestone last night, and I really don’t have the hang of it yet. I keep zapping things, but hopefully not too hard. I’m really looking forward to working with you, and I don’t want to get off to a bad start by putting you in medical the first time we met. Not like Grizzlor...”

Adora’s mind, after a few halting steps, managed to catch up. “You can… you can just call me Adora. You’ve been a Force Captain longer than I have, obviously, and there’s no reason we need to be formal if we’re working together. Um… “ She paused. “…Although exactly what you work on isn’t really covered in orientation. So I’m not sure what we’d be working together on…”

“Oh, that’s easy! I don’t have a division, like the others. I’m more of a troubleshooter, you know? They tell me what needs to happen, and I make sure it does. You know, supporting combat squadrons, guarding important packages going from point a to point b, making sure engineering crews that have been lagging get done on time. Things like that. They need someone with my rank to do that kind of thing, sometimes.” She smiled again, proudly, and it was as genuine as anything Adora had seen from Bow or Glimmer. “For now, I’ve been assigned to your division. Your personal squad, actually, which is pretty exciting for me. You came back with Princess powers, and so did your second, and this is my first day having them too. We’re going to be like the Power Princess Newbies together!”

Adora blinked. “So… I guess this thing about you not having access to your powers is out of date, then. And you… shock people?”

“On accident. And I might have occasionally thrown a bolt of lightning or four when I first got connected. Wow, Shadow Weaver was angry about that. I broke some of her things. And I think I can do other stuff, but I really haven’t had the time to practice.”

“…So they’re putting three fully-powered Princesses together in one group?” Adora’s mind searched one way and another, trying to figure out what this meant. “That’s an awful lot of power to put in one place. And what about the chain of command? Won’t that get confusing?”

“Nope!” Scorpia replied brightly. “I’m assisting you. You’re the one in charge. That’s how it usually is when I help another Force Captain. I mean, they know their own things better than I do. I just help them do it. And we’re going to need power. They wanted me to tell you to get five squads together and prepared to ship out in two days. We’re visiting Salineas! Man, I’ve always wanted to go there. I don’t know if it’s written down there anywhere, but I _love_ boats…”

Scorpia continued to talk, and Adora tried to pay attention as well as she could; the other woman seemed like genuinely friendly soul, and she didn’t want to offend her. The greater part of her mind, though, raced on ahead through maps and travel routes and speed calculations. “…So the trip to Salineas, it’ll take about three or four days to get there?” Adora’s voice stayed level, refusing to acknowledge the sudden onset of panic.

“Sound right to me! I’d bet on four, though. Something always goes wrong with boats and gets you stuck for a while, but then you just have more time to admire the view. It’s great weather for it this time of year, too. Should be nice breezes, not too chilly. Oh, and we’ll have time to fish!” She smiled at Adora. “I’ve never done it, but they taught me in survival skills training. You too, right? We can all try it out together, you and me and your second… what was her name again?”

“Sergeant Catra,” mumbled Adora. “Look, Scorpia…” she paused, realizing that Scorpia hadn’t given her permission to use her name without the title, but Scorpia just waited for her to continue, a pleasant, alert expression on her face. “I need to talk to her really quick. I had some plans, and I’m going to need to adjust them with her, now that you’ve given me this absolutely welcome information. Don’t worry, we’ll be coming to Salineas with you!” She gave Scorpia an enthusiastic thumbs up, and was rewarded with Scorpia attempting to do the same with a pincer splayed open as wide as she could.

Scorpia laughed. “Sorry! Good for cutting and punching things, not so much for fun gestures. You wouldn’t believe how long it takes me to get dressed in the morning, but on the other hand I can snip a rebel sword off at the hilt without even trying! Sometimes when I’m not even trying. Just tell me when you want to meet up so that the three of us can go over the oh, okay she’s gone.”

Adora ran through the halls, sending a fearful call ahead toward Catra through the link in their minds. _I need to see you. Please, find me._

* * *

Catra didn’t hear the call, exactly. She’d been standing in fitting for over an hour by that point, waiting as the armorers first took her measurements, then argued about fabric and metal, took her measurements again, began debating the finer points of Kyle’s drawing, occasionally eliciting input from Catra on how exactly she wanted some piece to look or perform, and taking her measurements yet again. Now she was covered in a swath of tough, black fabric in the process of being pinned around her. A necessary step, they had told her, considering her unusual shape. She’d thought about bloodying that armorer’s nose for the comment, but ultimately decided that his statement was warranted.

She stretched her wings outward, and everyone moved around to avoid being struck. They were rigging some kind of backless, collar supported… something, or so they said, that would be easy for her to put on and take off, and wouldn’t restrict her movement or comfort, _and,_ just as importantly, would let her look like the kind of monster she wanted to be. She could see it even now, contrasting perfectly against Adora’s colors as they charged into battle against the rebels at some unassailable fortress…

Catra paused as she noticed that one of the armorers had been tugging on her arm insistently. “What?”

“Er, sergeant, you started to walk away. We tried to get your attention, but you just kept going. We need to finish this pinning…” His voice began to rise as her eyes left his, and she took another couple of involuntary steps toward the doorway. “Sergeant, please! You said that this was top priority, and we can’t finish if we haven’t fitted it correctly.”

She leveled a withering gaze at him, the kind she’d practiced in secret when she was alone with the washroom mirror; the kind of sneering contempt that would send the man scrambling backwards for daring to interrupt her. To her great surprise, it worked. “Put this last pin in, and then everyone take a quick break. I’ll be back in a few minutes. My legs are restless. You’re still going to finish this tonight, understand?” He nodded swiftly.

Catra gathered the fold of cloth around her and under her arm, and walked out to the hallway, not even marking the choices as she turned right, and then left, and then left again three intersections further. She really did want this uniform done right, but just _standing_ there for so long was awful. She needed to move, needed walk, run, fly… anything but stand in one spot staring at a wall and waiting. A waste of time. Time she should be spending with…

“Catra! There you are. I can’t believe that worked. You heard me! Great, I need to talk to you right now…”

She watched Adora in total bewilderment for a moment before it dawned on her. All that nervous energy, all the need to move, and to move _specifically in this direction_ had ceased as soon as they had come face to face. She screamed inside her head; that Adora had just whistled her up like a trained haxhound was bad enough, but Catra hadn’t even realized it was happening. _How the fuck am I supposed to fight this when I can’t even tell when it’s going on?_ It took a moment of hostile staring before she was able to compose her face and disguise the outrage dripping from her like condensation around a coolant pipe.

“Yeah, I got that you needed me. And I left in the middle of something, so if we could make this quick, I’d really appreciate…”

“Catra, they’re sending us to Salineas in two days. Come on.” Adora grabbed her by the arm and tugged, dragging her right along with that same brute strength she’d always inexplicably had. It didn’t hurt, and Catra knew she could have broken the hold, but it was still annoying to be hauled around like a child. Adora lead the two of them to a supply closet, stepped inside, and gestured for her to follow. Catra had just enough presence of mind to check whether anyone was watching before stepping inside and closing the door behind them.

“So… us in a closet together. I mean, I can think of worse ways to spend a few minutes, but this had better not be the only reason you dragged me out of fitting.”

 _Why did those words sound different than I meant them too?_ From the look on Adora’s face, she’d been caught off guard as well, and a faint blush colored her cheeks in the dim light. “Look, you said something about Salineas. What’s got you all worked up, exactly? So we’ve got a mission. Great. Let’s get out there and show them what we can do together!”

Adora groaned. “I was going to try to get you to defect with me.”

Silence and stillness, and only the rapid pulse of Catra’s irises existed alongside the two of them.

“I wanted to take a couple of days to convince you. To get you to see that this isn’t the right place for you, that you have more to offer to people who deserve you more than the Horde do.” Adora pulled at her own hair, her emotions fragmenting in all directions. “You’re the best fighter I know, and the best friend I’ve ever had, and there is _nobody_ in my life that is more important to me than you, even if I’m not as good a friend as I thought. I _need_ to get you out of here. I need to be as good a friend to you as I should have been all along, and take you with me to the Rebellion. Bow and Glimmer… those are the two you met before…” Her voice faltered slightly, recalling the circumstances of that meeting. “…they want to talk to you. I told them everything about how amazing you are. We need you, Catra. I need you. And I can’t let you stay in this place any longer.” She sank to her knees, to Catra’s amazement, softly crying. “I’ve failed you so many times… but I have to believe I can do the right thing for you _and_ for the world. And this is the only way I can see to do it. I promised Bow and Glimmer that I’d meet them back in Thaymor in one week. Six days now, I guess. With you. But we’re being sent away in two days…”

Catra nodded faintly, trying to untangle some of the terrible, complicated thoughts shooting through her brain, forgetting in the moment to even pay attention to Adora’s own scattered emotions. “Right. To Salineas. And that’s how far away?”

“Four days each way by ship. Three if we’re really lucky, apparently.”

“No chance of making it back before your deadline, then, huh?” Catra pursed her lips in thought, only to draw back with a hiss as Adora shot to her feet again.

“No, there isn’t! And that’s why we need to go _now.”_ Adora’s voice remained frantic even as she stared into Catra’s eyes; she trembled just slightly in a way that absently made Catra feel better about her own cowardice. She grabbed Adora’s hand tightly.

“Okay, first of all, don’t make a plan for the two of us to defect without _fucking telling me about it._ We’ve been over this before, Adora! I don’t want to leave, and you shouldn’t either. I wouldn’t go with you before, and I won’t…”

She paused, suddenly unsure that she’d have a choice. If Adora _told_ her that they were going to join the Rebellion, would that be over? Would she have any say in the matter at all? And did Adora even know that she might have this power over her? _Careful. She can’t know. She can’t ever know._ “…I won’t just let you lead me around on this without talking about the alternatives. Okay, we can both agree that the Horde is shitty. They’re terrible people doing terrible things.” Adora looked as if she were about to interrupt, but Catra put up her hand to forestall it. “I can’t argue with that. But I don’t think joining the Rebellion is the right move.”

Adora looked at her incredulously. “Then what _is_ the right move, Catra? Because I can’t be a part of something this evil anymore. I just…can’t.”

Catra felt an unaccustomed sliver of sympathy at her friend’s pain. Adora was confused, and tired, and panicking, and it was, as always, their jobs to look after each other. “I get that. So what about Shadow Weaver’s plan, then? The one where we… do things from here?” She stopped herself from saying _take down Hordak_ a heartbeat away from action. “I like that plan better. I think I like the part where it isn’t stupid and suicidal the most.”

<[>Adora glared at her, and Catra sighed. “You said it yourself. We’ve got blasters and tanks, they have arrows and glitter. And princess magic, but guess what?” She waved her arms, nearly dropping the bolt of cloth. “That’s not enough! If it were enough, we wouldn’t be winning this. Look, it’s simple. They’ve only got so many princesses, and we’ve got as many bots and tanks and blasters as we can throw together. If they were ever going to stop the Horde, it would have been at the beginning, when it was small. Now that we’re big, and claiming their territory, can you even think of _one time_ they’ve actually attacked _us?”_

Adora shook her head. “That’s what I mean. We keep attacking them unprovoked…”

Catra sighed. “Not the point. The point is that if they can’t even attack us, they sure can’t defeat us, and unless you think that you and I are enough to tip that balance by ourselves, joining them would be the dumbest possible way to help them. I say we stay here, or, well, go to Salineas, and see what we can do to change things on our end. Maybe we can even coordinate a little,” _or maybe I can get you to see that this whole thing is stupid,_ “to make things work out for the best. Do you think that we’re enough to tip the whole thing by ourselves?”

Adora paused and slowly shook her head. “I saw the numbers today at orientation. Troop and materiel counts. Resources. Vehicles. Weapons. If it wasn’t for the Whispering Woods blocking us by land and Salineas blocking us at sea, we’d have crushed them a long time ago. They’re disorganized, and underequipped, and they don’t even have a monopoly on Princess magic anymore.”

“Yeah, not since we…”

“No, not just us. Force Captain Scorpia is a Princess too. She just got her powers last night, and she’s been assigned to our division.”

“…Okay, that’s just about as insane as everything else you’ve been saying, so that tracks. So, to sum it up, _especially_ if this Scorpia is a princess too, me and you aren’t going to win this by ourselves, and we’d pretty much need to.” Catra paused, and suddenly grabbed Adora’s chin in her hand, staring her in the eyes against every fiber of her that ached to drop her gaze submissively. “This is not a good plan, Force Captain. But all those troops, and weapons, and… and all of this. What if it were actually used for the reasons they always told us? The lies you believed? What if we could steer the Horde into _actually_ making things better?”

She saw the spark in Adora’s eyes and knew that some part of her had latched on to the idea. Catra smiled.

“That’s a better plan. And it’s one that doesn’t end up with you having to fight Lonnie, or Rogelio, or Kyle, or any of the other kids you grew up with. So come on, can we just send a message to your rebel buddies that we’re working a different angle, and do the smart thing for once?”

Adora nodded hesitantly, wiping her eyes. “There were things I didn’t know when I made those plans. Things have changed. They’ll understand. But are you okay with this? Following Shadow Weaver’s plan?”

Catra nodded as well. “It’s the best way to make sure we all win, Adora. She can have that.”

The two of them embraced awkwardly around the loose cloth, their seriousness fading into muffled laughter as they tried to find a way to hug each other without tearing or dropping the beginnings of Catra’s new uniform. Eventually they gave up, Adora offering up a wan smile to her best friend as she exited the supply closet.

Sergeant Catra of the Horde remained for a few moments, tasting the heady concoction of confusion, fear, and hope in her friend’s mind, then nodded. “The best way to make sure we all win.” She smiled. “And at some point, I’m pretty sure I can figure out how to make _her lose.”_

She exited, found her way back to fitting, and had them resume their work. If she was to going to be leaving for Salineas in two days, she was going to do so in her new outfit, no matter how long she had to stand in place.

* * *

The guard stumbled from his bed in medical. Powerful painkillers had their claws in him, drowning out the agony of the dunecrawler venom at the cost of making his mind blurry and his throat dry. He didn’t remember his throat feeling so dry last time he’d been on pain medication, though he supposed they hadn’t been so strong then. His shoulder struck the concrete wall as he searched about for the door to the washroom, eyes struggling to see past the fog of chemicals and simple darkness that surrounded him.

He found a gap in the wall and stepped through it gratefully, lurching forward and putting his hands on either side of the sink, ready to scoop up some water to ease the burning.

The sink didn’t feel like he thought it would. When he attempted to run the water, or dip his hands into the bowl, he encountered a keypad which clacked mockingly at him. He growled and shook his head, trying to clear his vision, but the discomfort in his throat only increased, and with the sudden movement of his head, he vomited onto the computer console.

The guard sank to his knees, dark closing in around him as he wondered why his bile was so thick and dark. He hadn’t eaten in hours…

By the time the Horde medics reached him, he’d been dead for several minutes, and the blood he’d vomited onto the hallway network terminal was already beginning to dry. With their customary efficiency, the medics and custodial staff took away the body, filled out the appropriate paperwork for a poor reaction to the new painkillers, and cleaned the blood from the hall. It was only later, once all the work was done and the lights turned off again, that if one looked very carefully, they might have seen a faint blue glow sinking itself down into the circuitry of the terminal. And soon after that, there would have been nothing to see at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one took a long, long time to come out. Sorry for that. There is no set release schedule for this fic, my life being the kind of chaos that it is, but it should usually be more frequent than this. There were just certain other things that got in the way. I'd like to be able to say that this was the FINAL time that there will be a delay like this, but I'm afraid that might just be a FANTASY.
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta readers for helping make this work. I couldn't do it without you.


	5. Gunboat Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events begin to shift from their course. Something wicked this way comes. A bit of light from out of nowhere.

The small column of soldiers, and much larger milling crowd of civilians marched despondently from the woods into the now-overloaded Bright Moon Rebellion encampment, stretched out on the plateau north of the castle. In the center of the of the train of displaced Plumerians strode a massive tree, limbs still sagging and patchy from blight, with a pink gem embedded in its center that occasionally pulsed with beats of green light. The tree moved like man who’d indulged in far too much Plumerian berry wine, lurching this way and that on mismatched tangles of roots that had been twisted around each other to resemble legs. Most of the people avoided it, either for fear of it accidentally trampling them, or for other, more personal reasons.

Even from her window overlooking the scene, Glimmer could feel the sense of despair emanating from the refugees, the shame of the contingent of Bright Moon soldiers escorting them, and the slowly burning anger of both. She thought she could, at least. _That’s what I’d be feeling right now. That’s what I_ am _feeling right now. We could have stopped this._

She could see a tiny figure marching next to the mobile tree, arms outstretched and swaying from more exhaustion than even the long march could have accounted for. Glimmer had never met Princess Perfuma before, but she was fairly certain that the mud staining her dress and hair were probably not a normal fixture of her appearance, and that she typically walked with more grace and confidence than the defeated, almost insensate woman visible from the window. Glimmer looked away, over her shoulder and toward the general vicinity of the war council room. _We could have…_ I _could have stopped this._ She shook her head and amended the thought once more. _She could have stopped this, if she’d just listened to me._

Suppressing a snarl, she grabbed ahold of the barest whisper of the power contained inside her, a tiny part of the tiny reservoir of magic she could carry from the Moonstone, and became light.

As she blinked back into existence a moment later in the council room, she could see her mother consulting with General Sundera. Queen Angella towered nearly a full head above the dark, scarred woman who commanded the forces of Bright Moon in battle, and her presence crowded out the other woman as if it were even more. The few other Rebellion commanders in attendance stood back, silent, as though afraid to be noticed by their queen in the shadow of such a colossal failure. Glimmer narrowed her eyes and felt the heat of anger in her rise by a fraction of a degree.

“…If we can’t sustainably house them here, the Whispering Woods are the only feasible territory, your Majesty. It won’t be comfortable at first, but by repute the Plumerians are accustomed to living in nature. With regular supply shipments, and the forest’s natural defenses augmented by Princess Perfuma’s magic, they’ll be as safe there as anywhere.” Sundera hesitated for a moment before plunging forward with what Glimmer instinctively knew was coming next. “Their presence might actually be an advantage for us. The Woods still guard our borders. Having a princess residing in them, with her subjects to help guard them… even if they are Plumerians… strengthens those defenses.”

Angella turned a sharp eye toward her General and spoke in the calm accent that had been the standard of Bright Moon in her long-ago youth. “I agree that we have little alternative but to house them in the Whispering Woods at this time. Plumeria is poisoned beyond reclamation now, and we are already too crowded with our own displaced citizens as it is. But I will not countenance talk of their plight as though it is some kind of stratagem to exploit. They are people, not pawns.” The General bowed her head in assent.

Glimmer’s voice spat from her throat before she even realized she was speaking. “Maybe you _should_ start thinking the way your military leaders are telling you to think about _military decisions,_ Mom.” The entire room went dead quiet, and the even those who had noticed her entrance turned towards her, shocked. She blushed furiously. _Ok, might as well go big, then…_ “Look, I’m sorry if I’m being disrespectful, and I don’t want to say I told you so, but I definitely told you so. I said we should have sent an army, not a supply train. I said we should have hit the Horde base right away, or we were just delaying the inevitable, and I _know_ that General Sundera agreed with me!”

Sundera turned aside, not willing to meet the eyes of either royal, and Glimmer continued, with an added note of frustration in her rapidly rising voice. “Turns out, we didn’t even buy that. Our guards were there for what, a day before the Heart Blossom started failing and Plumeria had to evacuate? Have you _ever_ heard of a Runestone having to be moved before? Honest question, because I haven’t.” She turned to her mother, who stood far enough above her that analogizing her face to a thundercloud actually seemed appropriate, and hissed. “I told you that you should have sent me, and at least a regiment. I can handle coordinating an attack, and I’m not too afraid to do it. We could have driven the Horde out and stopped whatever… thing… they were doing to kill the land.”

“And how many of our soldiers would have died, attacking a Horde fortification?” asked Queen Angella, her quiet voice belying her expression.

“How many died getting the Plumerians out ahead of the Horde? How many _Plumerians_ died getting out ahead of the Horde? Great trade; now we have casualties _and_ lost a kingdom. It’s like you think the Horde are just going to give up and go home if we wait long enough!” She paused, eyes widening slightly as Angella took a step toward her.

“Commander Glimmer. Daughter. I believe you are still grounded from the last occasion that you disrespected my wishes and my authority. And the time before that as well, in fact. So I see little reason for you to be outside your room and publicly questioning the decisions of your superiors. If you wish to argue strategy with me, feel free to arrange a meeting. I will come to you when I have time.” Her voice was cold, and her translucent wings flared the way that they always did when she was particularly outraged. Glimmer didn’t fear her mother physically; had never been given reason to. Nevertheless, some tiny part of her mind found it impossible not to fixate on the difference between their levels of power, and how easily her mother could punish her if she ever decided to.

“…Fine. I’m gone. But you know I’m right. I was right then, and I’m right now, and I’ll be right when you make your next mistake tomorrow.” She pulled at the Moonstone power once again, and vanished out to the archery range before anyone in the room could respond. She looked about, hoping to see Bow, but found only other soldiers practicing their own skills. She sighed, and teleported again, this time to a nearby shed where she found her friend working on a new set of trick arrows, hunched over a table with a tiny screwdriver and his tongue stuck out slightly between his teeth. He looked up, only slightly startled as she appeared.

“Glimmer, are you sure you should be here? I mean, didn’t your mom… you know.” He mimed turning a key turning in a lock, and then being thrown away.

“I don’t think I really care anymore,” she said, bitterly. “After what I just said to her in the war room, I’m probably triple grounded now. What’s she going to do, quadruple ground me? Oh no, that’s so different than right now.” She pulled up a stool to the worktable and sighed. “It’s true, you know. Plumeria is gone.”

Bow shook his head, groaning. “That… is not a small loss. I mean, a whole kingdom. But you can’t blame yourself. If it was that far gone, we probably couldn’t have saved it, not with just you and me and the number of troops you were asking for.”

“We could have saved it with one other person.”

“You don’t know that. And Adora couldn’t have known that either. There are still two days before we’re supposed to meet her. It’s not like she skipped out on us. And if the Horde operation in Plumeria was so big, she might not have been able to fix the problem anyway. She’s She-Ra, not invincible.”

“She wasn’t either of those when Plumeria needed her,” muttered Glimmer. “If the Horde operation was so big, she should have known about it, and done _something_. And she _did_ skip out on us. Back in Thaymor.”

Her friend turned away from his work to look at her directly in her multicolored eyes. “She had a pretty good reason. We need to give her the time she asked for, okay? Please? She’s a good person, and I’m sure she would have helped if she could have.”

Glimmer stood up silently and paced a bit, allowing the silence to grow and take root. Finally, she whispered “I think maybe you trust her too much based on her doing one good thing.”

Tugging on that internal store of power once again, she vanished.  
  


* * *

Adora had to admit, she was beginning to understand Scorpia’s love of boats. The smell of the ocean was remarkably refreshing after the soot and grime of the worse parts of the Fright Zone, and the antiseptic sterility of the better parts. Its scent was sharp with salt, and somehow alive, much as the smell of the woods had been, even if they were otherwise nothing alike. She enjoyed the gentle rocking of the Horde ship’s steel hull, the vibration of the engines deep within, the sunlight scattering off the surface of endless blue in all directions, the ceaseless wind that seemed to carry a new and fragrant note each time it rushed past her face… And, though it did give her a twinge of guilt, being a Force Captain meant that she had her own quarters instead of having to squeeze into the tiny ship’s bunks with everyone else, and the crew gave her plenty of space on deck.

A tone of exhilaration struck her mind, and she wryly recalled that the only thing really wrong with the situation was that it gave her almost no time whatsoever to speak with Catra. As it turned out, her second abhorred almost everything about nautical life that Adora had turned out to enjoy and had simply taken off into the skies as soon as they had left the primary Horde docks at Skorsis. She’d spent nearly the entire time practicing her aerobatics since then; rolling, accelerating, arresting her speed, flipping, diving, hovering, and in general circling around their flotilla at three or four times the speed that the actual ships (not boats, she reminded herself. Despite Scorpia’s nomenclature, the crew had been almost frighteningly insistent on that, and even Scorpia didn’t use the word where they could hear) were moving. Catra would touch down every now and then for food or water, and Adora had taken a few of those opportunities to go over a rough sketch of their plan, but this morning Catra had taken a stack of provisions and flown it up to the highest point of the ship. Now whenever Adora felt her becoming hungry or thirsty, she could look over to see Catra swooping down on her personal stash, picking them off without ever touching the steel.

It was graceful enough, beautiful enough, that it almost made up for Adora’s constant worry that their plan was insane and was absolutely going to blow up in their faces and possibly get them and everyone else involved executed. Catra’s new outfit had barely been completed in time for the journey, but Adora had to admit that she cut a striking figure in it. Gold accents like her own new costume as She-Ra, but against a black background that contrasted with her new, lighter fur and hair coloring; backless to allow her wings freedom of movement and a cutout on her upper chest that happened to be elegant, dramatic, and _attractive_ in complicated proportions, as well as asymmetric black gloves, against which her golden claws seemed to glitter, rounding off the new look. Her headpiece remained, but it had been re-plated as well before leaving the fright zone, and now shone with that same golden luster. She didn’t know how often she’d stopped to stare today, only that it had contributed significantly to her inability to keep a fish on her line.

For now, all she could do was hold her steel rod and line, and wait for another bite. There were a thousand tasks to do aboard the ship, and the crew glared daggers at her if she attempted any of them, so she’d been fishing with Scorpia for the last couple of hours instead. She eyed her own small bucket, still empty on the deck. Adora had felt bites a few times, but they’d always managed to get away before they could be pulled in. Then she eyed Scorpia’s bucket, which was not nearly so empty.

“I still think that’s cheating, you know,” she said.

“Naw,” said Scorpia, her tone still the shade of earnest cheer that Adora had found to be her default setting. “Cheating would be if I dropped a grenade in the water or something. Or, you know, shot a blaster at it, or one of the ship’s cannons, though I don’t think you can angle them that way. Or made a giant net so that you’d scoop up fish everywhere you went. That would be completely cheat-y. Me, I’m just using what I have! I mean, you get to have a nice neat line, and that mechanical whoosawhats for reeling them in, because you have, you know, fingers. And instead, I get a bigger pole…”

“…And are allowed to just shock the fish dead as soon as you feel one bite. I don’t think those are equal.”

Scorpia shrugged, the smile never leaving her face. “Well, I’m supposed to practice, you know? I’ve finally stopped accidentally knocking people out when they get close. Unless it’s, you know, from behind, but that’s a totally different issue. The point is, I think I’m getting pretty good at it, finally.” She paused. “…I wouldn’t think you were cheating if you used your powers, you know. I mean, Catra picked off that fish this morning before either of us. Just fwooop! Grabbed it right out of the water. Man, that was something else. I don’t even know how she saw it. Too bad she can’t stay down here without getting sick, because I’d really like to know…”

“Yeah. With all the jumping around she does, and the flying now, you’d think that being on a boat wouldn’t be a problem, but I swear, as soon as we got going…”

“Set sail. You really need to learn the right words if you don’t want the sailors to be annoyed with you. I usually spend most of these trips talking with them because the other officers are too busy, so I pick up a lot.”

“Set sail, then. As soon as we set sail, she looked like she was going to vomit. She’s never liked water very much.” Adora’s voice dropped to a playful whisper. “Don’t tell her I told you, but she’s hiding a bucket in her bunk, for when she has to sleep.” She hesitated, seeing only dismay in Scorpia’s eyes.

“Aw, no! Is there anything I can do? I’ve got a bunch of family remedies for things like this. My moms taught me a lot of things like that before I got promoted into the Horde, and they work really well! I’m not sure where I’d find stingweed out here in the ocean, but maybe there’s some kind of kelp that would work…”

Adora smiled. “She’ll be fine, Scorpia. She’s strong. A lot stronger than anyone ever knew.” _Including me._ She gathered her thoughts, concentrated, and sent a directed pulse of pure admiration in Catra’s direction. Adora was immediately rewarded by seeing Catra lose her balance in the air and drop what had to be almost thirty feet before recovering. She felt a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and embarrassed happiness in response. “You should spend some time with her, at some point. Fair warning though: She’s a bit sarcastic. And a little touchy, with a temper. And a little impatient. And sometimes she likes to drop insults, but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t mean them. That’s just who she is.”

Scorpia continued to nod through the litany of Catra’s apparent faults, none of them visibly registering on her face. “Hey, that’s okay, I’m not always completely easy to get along with either.” Adora tried to keep the skepticism from her face and failed miserably. Luckily, the smiling Force Captain didn’t seem to notice. “We’ve all got our bad days, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Of course. Just, maybe talk to her on dry land, ok? She’ll be in a better mood.” She paused as a small tug shifted the pole in her hand. “Wow, okay, I’ve got something… this time…”  
  


For the next four minutes, Adora struggled against a swimming monster that seemed to go everywhere but the direction she expected, her concentration hindered by Scorpia’s enthusiastic advice and the occasional inquisitive look from Catra above. Finally, for the first time on their voyage, she pulled forth her quarry: A purple and blue fish about the length of her longest finger. _There is no possible way this could possibly have pulled that hard. Why does the ocean hate me?_ She sighed, and posed dramatically with it as Scorpia clapped her pincers together, and Catra snickered, now hovering nearby. “Hey, Sergeant. This isn’t much use to me. You take care of it.” She flung the fish into the air to be caught nonchalantly by her second, who looked at it flopping in her hand with some disdain.

“Adora, I caught a fish for breakfast that was ten times this thing’s size, and it took me about five minutes to find. Why do you think I need your pity fish?” She paused for a moment. “We’ll be in Salineas tomorrow. We should go over the plan tonight one more time. We should probably bring big stuff here along, too, so she doesn’t accidentally do something to mess it up.”

Scorpia nodded. “Yeah, definitely. I mean, I’m always more useful with clear instructions. I’m your backup, after all. Hard to do that if I don’t know what I’m backing up. It’s okay if you forgot to tell me earlier. I get it, I mean you probably had this all figured out before we even left, and you’re pretty close. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that. Just, you know, let me know if you think I can help out.” She smiled at Catra. “And I just want to say, watching you fly has been great. I mean, you’re _really_ good at that. You look like you’ve been doing it for years, not less than a week.”

Adora watched as Catra blushed slightly at the unaccustomed compliment. “Well…um, I think I got a bunch of instincts along with everything else. I’m just working on getting conscious control of what I can do. And, uh, I’m sure you can help us somehow. We’ll talk about it tonight, right Adora?”

Adora nodded, feeling the embarrassment and uncertain pleasure in Catra’s mind. Her friend wasn’t sure of Scorpia’s honesty in complimenting her. Why, Adora had no idea; Scorpia clearly had nothing _but_ honesty inside her, but at least some part of Catra refused to commit to the idea.

Catra nodded in return and flew off again for one last circle around the flotilla. Adora patted Scorpia on the shoulder and turned back towards the entrance to the lower decks, to get ready for their meeting. Just as she crossed the threshold, she felt a brief flash of pleasure and a sense of flavor from Catra, and smiled. She had just eaten Adora’s fish.  
  


* * *

Catra swooped down to perch on the bow railing near Scorpia and Adora, suppressing the almost immediate nausea from the ceaseless, uncontrollable rocking of the ship. Behind her, the Salineas Sea Gate rose above the water, its pale blue glow still visible in the early morning sunlight, but its form flickered in patchwork chaos, unsteady and not nearly the formidable barrier she’d been expecting. The big dumb one, Scorpia, seemed to still be admiring the view of the admittedly impressive statuary enclosing it, and the fancifully sculpted city just visible behind the walls. Catra had tried not to feel too impressed herself; this was the first real city she’d seen outside the Fright Zone. She’d assumed, somehow, that the rebels all lived in either fortresses or, after Thaymor, bucolic villages. The Salineas capital, however, was an honest-to-Hordak city, stretching out for miles both inland and along the coast, a fact that made what she had seen even more confusing.

“Ok, so this is pretty weird. I probably felt all confused to you for most of that flight, and that’s because I’m not totally sure what’s going on.” She scratched the back of her neck, then quickly pulled away when she realized that Adora’s hand was moving to give her a scratch as well. _Not in public, dammit._ “That city’s huge, but there’s almost nobody there, unless everyone was keeping inside or under cover. There are almost no guards on the walls, and almost nobody in the streets. It’s not totally deserted, but it’s damned close, and that’s not something that could have happened just since we showed up.”

“Well, we’ve been putting pressure on their defenses for months now. Wearing them down, that sort of thing. We’re just supposed to be the first real attack…” Scorpia paused, looking at the others. “Oh, no, don’t worry, I still remember what you told me about the plan yesterday. Great plan, not going to have any problems from me! Just, they probably don’t know the plan, so maybe…”

Catra and Adora both nodded, practically in synch with each other. “So, they’ve been evacuating people from the city in preparation for the battle. The makes sense,” said Adora. “But why no guards? Why no ships ready to intercept us? We’ve been over the horizon for a while now. They should have deployed a defense fleet by now.” Both her voice and mind were puzzled, and even worried. “Maybe they know the city is going to fall, and they sent their army with the civilians to protect them.”

Catra snorted. “Too much credit. If that’s what happened, there’d still be more guards to keep us busy, and there wouldn’t be any civilians at all. No, I think this was a retreat that turned into a panic. The army wasn’t ordered away, they _ran._ And I’ll bet most of the citizens did too, _after_ they saw the army clearing out.” Her mouth curled into a sneer as she looked over her shoulder. “A bunch of cowards. They’re going to feel real stupid after this.”

_Coward. No._ _I might be a coward, but I’m not_ that _kind, at least._

She paused. “…do we even need to go forward with this? I mean, we could probably just march right in and take over now. This Princess Mermista might not even be here anymore.” Her eyes narrowed as Adora shook her head, contradicting her.

“No. The rest of her military might be… disloyal… but I just can’t imagine that their Princess would abandon her city without a fight. I met a princess before…”

“Two princesses!” said Scorpia, voice bright and unselfconscious.

“Right. Well, the first princess I met, Glimmer? She wouldn’t have retreated from anything, even if you broke both her arms and legs first.”

Scorpia nodded in understanding, while Catra looked at Adora, puzzled. “If her arms and legs were broken, how…”

“She was the one who could teleport.”

“Ah.” Catra scratched the back of her neck again. She remembered. That moment when the short, pink-haired girl had vanished with Adora in front of her eyes, leaving Catra alone on the battlefield had been the worst moment of that messed-up day, save one. “Right, so now we’re working on the theory that all princesses are the same? You don’t know her, Adora. Pretending like you do is just going to get people hurt. It’s going to get _you_ hurt.” _And isn’t that just the worst possibility?_ “But okay. Easy enough to test. That gate? It’s not working very well. Honestly, this invasion is almost ceremonial. Just knock on the door a bit. If someone wearing her princess boots is still sitting around here, she’ll have to respond.”

Adora looked at Catra thoughtfully, for once her emotions difficult to read. “I don’t know all the princesses, Catra. But I think I’m starting to learn a little bit about responsibility.” She nodded to Scorpia. “Okay, Scorpia. I want you to blast a hole straight through that gate. Don’t hit the archway, and make sure to angle it so it doesn’t hit any of the buildings on the other side. Just a clean hit through the field.”

Catra turned to watch, eager to see the ship’s main cannon lance through the ancient force field, only to leap nearly ten feet into the air and have to loop back down, fur standing completely on end as a blistering crack of thunder exploded from barely a foot away, and far more quickly than the deck crew could possibly have fired. A streak of crimson lightning arced out over the bay, trailing tendrils of electricity that struck the water, leaving behind patches of steam as it traveled. It struck the upper right corner of the Gate and continued onward to eventually vanish over the city. The entire gate shuddered, flickering on and off, and the patch that had been hit directly had been transformed into an ugly wound, a scarlet-edged hole that showed no sign of healing itself.

She whirled on Scorpia, whose right claw was held out in front of her, and whose face held an expression of awe, grabbing the much larger woman by the front of her uniform. “What the _fuck_ was that?” Her eyes were wide, and her claws burned with the need to extend to their full length.

“Um…” Scorpia seemed a bit startled herself, and more by the blast of lightning than by Catra’s reaction. “Well, Adora said to blast a hole in the gate, right? So, I figured I should do that, but wow, that was bigger than I was expecting. I mean, I’ve made a few shots before this, but that was just _way_ bigger. Gosh, I am really lucky that didn’t hurt anyone.” Her face instantly became concerned. “I didn’t, did I? I mean, I didn’t clip you, or make you go deaf or anything, right? Oh no, can you hear me? Catra, _can you hear me?_ The last part of the sentence was spoken slowly, and at double volume. Catra rolled her eyes, trying to resist the urge to poke a few holes in the big idiot’s carapace.

“Yes, stu… Yes, Force Captain. I can hear you. But I’m pretty sure that Adora meant that you should use the main cannon of the damn ship to fire that shot. You know, something predictable and familiar and _not_ something that would tip our hand immediately.” She felt Adora’s own hand the instant before it touched her shoulder.

“Catra, it’s okay. I didn’t explain specifically. And this might be even better. You were the one that said that they had to be scared for this to work, and that was frankly terrifying.”

Scorpia blushed slightly, and something about the expression made Catra’s stomach clench. “Well, thanks, I think. I mean, I haven’t really had a lot of chance to practice, but I think I could get really good if I tried. I mean, maybe you could throw rocks into the air for me, and I could shoot them down for target practice? You’re supposed to be really strong when you transform, right?”

Adora smiled, and something about _that_ made Catra’s stomach clench even more. “Pretty strong, yeah. Speaking of which… I guess I should get ready.”

She unsheathed her sword and said the words.  
  
It didn’t take long after that before the gate opened, and a tired, panicked voice rang from one of the arch’s guard towers. “Princess Mermista, rule of Salineas, Regent of the depths, Lady of the Pearl Throne, requests that you send an envoy to parlay!” The harried guard ducked behind the parapet again before anyone could get a good look at him.  
  
Adora nodded. “That’s what we’re here for. My two companions and I will be in shortly…”

“Um, I was told only one envoy…”

Catra laughed, joyful and mocking. “Oh, I get it. We only put _one_ hole in your gate, so you think only one of us can fit inside. That’s okay, we can fix that pretty quick. Scorpia, if you don’t mind…”

“No!” The guard’s voice seemed to rise higher, and his spirits sink even further. “I… I’m sure Princess Mermista wouldn’t object to an honor guard. Please, come in. Meet me at the shore, and I’ll take you to the Coral Palace.”

Adora raised an eyebrow at Catra, while Scorpia, whose pincer had half-risen to firing position again, smiled at her, and for the first time Catra found that she could appreciate that smile. “Wow, look at that. I threatened someone, and it made us _not have to hurt him_. It’s almost like that’s what threats are for.” Catra stretched her wings out, almost an embrace to the others. “Now… _Lonnie!”_ she yelled at maximum volume, making sure that everyone on the ship, who were no doubt already paying rapt attention to events on deck, could hear her. “Get a skiff ready for us. You’re in charge until we’re back. No shooting unless you’re shot at.”

* * *

Force Captain Adora, glowing with otherworldly power and feeling untold strength flow through her limbs, tried her best not to gape as she was led through the hallways of Princess Mermista’s castle. The turquoise walls seemed to be either sculpted by generations of tides, or else grown into place like the coral the palace was named for. Golden ornamentation strung with softly glowing gemstones lit the corridors, and gorgeous statuary of people and sea creatures and even those that seemed to somehow be both occupied regular niches that seemed for all the world to have naturally formed specifically to hold them.

She could feel Catra’s mind, suspicious and tense, but her own reaction was more akin to disbelief and outrage. The nation of Salineas was supposed to be fighting a _war._ True, a war against her own side, which leavened the condemnation somewhat, but still. Such an ostentatious display of wealth, of opulence, of indolence and greed… it was almost enough to make her believe that at least some of the Horde propaganda she’d recently rejected might have been right after all. Nobody could amass this kind of luxury without taking more than their share, especially not during what should be a battle for their very existence.

She passed a masterfully carved statue of two sea serpents twined together, and saw up close the chips along the fins, and the dust that had collected in the hollows between the two figures, and understanding came to her. _It’s old. Generations old, probably, and it hasn’t been properly cleaned or repaired in years. All of this… it’s from before the war. From before everything they had went into fighting us._

Her lips pursed together as she took in the rest of the artwork and saw the same signs of age and neglect behind the façade of their magnificent beauty. _I’m still not sure that totally justifies this display… but this isn’t a palace anymore, not really. It’s a museum. A memory of a better time._ The thought made something shrink inside her, and she could feel Catra’s own thoughts responding, wondering what was suddenly making her sad. Adora tried to aim a quick beat of reassurance in her direction.

The guard, the same clearly overworked, distressed guard that had guided them from the docks, swung open gates of delicate golden netting and stained glass, leading to a throne room lines with waterfalls, and pools, and emblems of the Salinean star emblazoned gold and blue on the floor. Adora couldn’t help but notice the murals first; long reams of First Ones’ writing carved into the shell walls, but her attention was quickly captured by the massive, gently glowing runestone suspended above the whorled throne. _It’s a lot bigger than mine._ She quickly suppressed the ridiculous note of jealousy.

The woman seated on the throne rose to her feet as they entered and gripped her trident hard enough that her knuckles became visibly pale, even from where Adora stood, falling into a defensive stance. _Not especially well practiced, but she’s preparing a style that’s appropriate for her build. She may not have seen a lot of actual combat, but she’s been trained. And she’s still a princess, which means that she’s dangerous, even for us._

“So,” said Mermista, a forced tone of affected boredom coloring the obvious tension in her voice. “Are we doing this or what? Yeah, I guess your Horde felt like they had to bring two giants _and_ your… whatever she is.” She glanced at Catra, clearly not recognizing her species, and frowned. “Whatever. Fine, I guess you get to take Salineas today. But, like, I hope you’re ready to hurt for it.”

All around the room, tendrils of water snaked upwards from the standing pools, and outward from the waterfalls, surrounding the trio. Catra hissed and dropped into a crouch. Adora could feel the readiness to attack pouring from her, a fraction of a second remaining from launching herself at the princess, and spoke quickly. “Princess Mermista, ma’am. Uh, your highness. I’m not actually sure what to call you, sorry. We aren’t here to fight, and we’re not here to take Salineas from you.”

There was a long silence in the room as a look incredulity passed over Mermista’s face. “Um… so you bring a fleet of attack ships up to my gate, blast a hole through it, march _three_ Horde princesses up to my throne… and I wasn’t aware you actually had that many, by the way… and then say ‘No, don’t worry, everything’s chill. We’re just here to see how you’re doing.’ Uh huh. Makes a lot of sense to me.”

Adora gave her best shot at a winning smile; it felt a bit awkward. “Well, it’s not that we don’t have a reason to be here, it’s just that we aren’t here to conquer you. This is an invitation to _join_ the Horde.”

Another long pause. “You cannot possibly be serious.”

Catra smirked. “Oh, we’re totally serious. See, we got to thinking on our way over here, and realized that actually conquering you would be a huge pain in the ass. I mean, we’d fight, you’d fight back, a bunch of both of both our people would die…” She looked around. “…although less than we thought, apparently, ‘cause it looks like everyone on your side is on vacation.” Her smile grew wider. “But the thing is, that doesn’t need to happen.”

Adora nodded, sticking to her carefully rehearsed lines. “Salineas is a powerful nation, and crucial to controlling the seas. Your gate…” _When it’s working._ “…can cut off half the continent, and your fleets and trade routes are unparalleled. And the thing is, all of that would be weakened or destroyed if we actually fought over it.”

Mermista’s eyes narrowed. “You’d pay for it if we did. I’m _not_ going to be the ruler that hands Salineas over to invaders just for an easy out.”

“And nobody is asking you to. Like I said, we don’t want to fight you or remove you from power. We want you to join the Horde. You’d still be in charge of Salineas. You’d still be princess and ruler. Your people and your kingdom would be safe.”

“You’d pledge yourself and Salineas to Hordak, sure,” said Catra, casually examining her own claws. “But honestly, he barely takes a day-to-day interest in the Fright Zone, let alone here. He just wants to win this war, and after thinking about it, we realized the easiest way to win this part is to not fight it. There’d be some new taxes, sure. But the Fright Zone has the best engineers in the world, and obviously we’d want to defend and upgrade our newest ally. Repair some of the damage that’s been done over the years. Share some useful tech. All totally worth it. And really, when it comes right down to it, we only have one definite requirement.”

The water princess frowned, but her stance relaxed subtly, and Adora’s hand ceased its itch to grasp The Sword of Protection. Around her, the twisting vines of water shrank down, though they did not vanish entirely. “Ok, so let’s hear it, then. Just to be clear, I am _not_ wearing a Horde uniform.”

Scorpia smiled as her turn to speak arrived. “We really just want to be able to move our ships through your territory. Just, you know, open the gates. Stop having them be closed.”

Mermista looked at all three of them incredulously. “…You’re kidding, right? That gate is barely working as it is. I know you saw it. It’s basically just a pretty window at this point. Why do you care if…”

“Oh, we can probably fix the gate for you,” said Scorpia, still smiling. “I mean, best engineers in the world and stuff. It is pretty, but I’d really like to see it at its best. I mean, wow, looking at the rest of the city, it’s got to be pretty spectacular. And that way you can let our ships through, and not rebel ships, so it works out great for us.”

“Everything else we can negotiate,” said Adora, turning to look at the First Ones’ language on the walls. “Huh. I might even be able to do something about the gate’s problem myself.” _A connection to the Pearl… I guess that’s the runestone. Directly powering the gate’s function. Multiple redundancies, but lack of maintenance can lead to cascade failure. Sounds bad._ A few glyphs flashed through her mind, seeming to interlock with those on the carvings. “My sword is First Ones’ tech too. I think I might be able to use it to fix your gate.”

Catra raised an eyebrow in surprise, then turned swiftly to Scorpia, showing a toothy smile. “Hey, why don’t we let our mighty leader talk to the princess alone for a bit. You know, make it a little more personal?” The other Force Captain hunched her shoulders uncertainly.

“I’m really not supposed to leave either of you alone. I mean, what if something happened to you…”

“Adora is going to be fine. She can take on Princess Puddles over there if she has to, but it’s not going to come to that. Now come on, don’t you want to see what everything looks like from the top of that arch? I’ll bet it’s really something.”

Scorpia hesitated almost three full seconds before allowing Catra to lead her away. Mermista turned to Adora, a flat expression on her face. “Princess Puddles?”

“That’s just how she talks, sorry. She doesn’t really mean anything by it.” _I think._ “But now that they’re gone…” She sighed. “Look, I’m not going try to talk pretty to you about this. I’m really no good at that. But apparently I’m She-Ra now, and I’m supposed to protect Etheria, and that includes Salineas. And Salineas can’t win this fight. Not right now. The Horde are…” She paused, sighed again. “They’re _doing_ evil. I’ve seen what kinds of things they… we… are willing to do in order to win, and I can’t let it happen here. And even though I’m powerful... Like, really, really powerful…” Mermista raised an eyebrow. “Uh, anyway, even as strong as I am, I don’t know that I can fight off that whole flotilla by myself. Or the next one. Or the one after that. But I _can_ get them to leave you alone for a while. You can fly the Horde flag next to yours, let our engineers upgrade your defenses, let me fix your gate, get the rest of your people and army back into the city… and hopefully in the future we can talk about this again, and see if maybe this arrangement isn’t the best thing for you anymore.” She paused. “…I have friends in the Rebellion. Princess Glimmer, and Bow, from Bright Moon. This is the best that I can do to help them right now.”

Her hand wandered to the glowing Horde insignia on her chest, and grasped it, longing to throw it off, but she forced her hand down again. “So please, Princess Mermista. Let’s smile at Hordak today, and fight him tomorrow.”

Mermista eyes had grown increasingly wide over the course of Adora’s speech, and now seemed almost twice their original size. Her mouth even hung open slightly, attempting to form words that couldn’t quite escape her throat. “Is this a joke? You’re a Horde _traitor?_ ” Adora flinched at the word.

“Not exactly…look, they told us we were the good guys, and then I found out we weren’t, ok? So working against them isn’t treachery, it’s just loyalty to what they originally said, all right? It’s complicated.” She inwardly cringed at the sudden uncertainty in her voice, and more when she realized that she’d allowed her cringe to show outwardly as well, hunching her shoulders in embarrassment.

“So. I let you in, become your puppet for a while, and no, don’t try to tell me I won’t be. There’s going to be a longer list of rules for me than an All-Princess invitation attached to this… and then when the time is right, you help me break free.” She looked toward the entrance to the throne room. “But not your friends?”

“Catra, she’s the rude one, she’ll definitely help. I’d trust her with anything; she’s really the one who came up with this plan. Scorpia… I don’t know yet. I think she’s a good person, and I think we might be able to get her on our side, but she doesn’t know about this right now. She was excited about being able to win without hurting anyone, though.”

“And if I tell you to go throw yourselves off the docks?”

Adora sighed again. “Then I have a flotilla full of soldiers, three fully powered princesses, and five gunships worth of artillery support. And you have a broken gate and an empty city. I can’t leave without Salineas’s surrender or allegiance, or someone else will just be sent instead.” She was silent for a few moments, listening to the trickle of the waterfalls and the soft groaning of Mermista as she processed her lack of choice. When Adora spoke again, her voice was low and fragile, like a single bubble floating upon seawater, or a sword of glass. “A few days ago, for a few hours after all _this_ happened to me,” she gestured at her giant frame, costume, and massive sword, “I thought that maybe I could be a different kind of hero. That maybe I could fight them directly. Just rush in and glow and defeat Hordak and… other people… and save everyone. A hero like the ones in those contraband leaflets they pass around the barracks. But it turns out that I’m not that kind of hero, and this isn’t that kind of story. Not yet.”

Another pause, and then another groan from Mermista, a sound that Adora was beginning to suspect was her favored mode of communication. “Ugh. Fine. You fix my gate, and we’ll sign some papers and make this whole stupid thing official. I guess this is technically a victory, but it’s just like the worst victory I’ve ever had.” She walked back to her throne and slumped down into it. “Anything else I can do for you while you’re still conquering me?”

“Just two things. We have a Horde Flag for you. Put it up next to yours. Not above or below it, okay? We don’t want to spook anyone into doing something crazy. And do you think you could send a message to Bright Moon for me? Addressed to Princess Glimmer and Bow.”

* * *

Two days later, Glimmer stood atop one of the still-broken cottages of Thaymor. Rebuilding was still in progress; the damage that the Horde tanks, bots and blasters had done to the village would take weeks to repair at the very least, and much of the population, though they had now returned, were sleeping in a makeshift tent encampment just inside the Whispering Woods themselves, hoping that even the very edge might provide a little protection. She looked this way and that, searching for something that she knew in her bones wouldn’t be there. Finally she growled, and vanished inside a sparkling cloud that reformed where Bow stood below, making small adjustments to an arrow she didn’t recognize.

“She’s not coming.”

Bow looked at her plaintively, the same look he always used when trying to get her sympathy, not that it ever failed. “The day isn’t over yet. And we don’t know, maybe she got held up. There are a million things that could go wrong between here and the Fright zone.”

“How many of those are things that She-Ra couldn’t deal with?”

Bow blushed slightly and shook his head. “I’m just saying, we don’t know for sure. She wouldn’t just abandon us without even saying anything.”

Glimmer scowled, and kicked a divot out of the hard ground, sending a tiny spike of pain through her ankle, which cause her to scowl even more. “She did say something. She said she’d be back in a week, and it was a lie. We should get going. Maybe if we get back before mom notices I’m gone, I can avoid the whole lecture, and she won’t officially take back my rank.”

Her best friend sighed, clearly still conflicted in a way that for some reason infuriated her. “Ok. But for the record, this is not my recommendation.” They both turned to leave, walking back towards the woods, only to be met by a raggedy old woman, hair all full of twigs and leaves and wearing a pair of thick glasses, stepping out of the woods in the opposite direction and muttering to herself.

“So silly, so silly… and they aren’t even the right ones. Everything is just completely off. I go to wash my clothes in the river, but it’s flowing the wrong way! What is Razz supposed to do with that…Oh!” Her eyes seemed to lock on to Glimmer and Bow, and she scuttled over to them, alarmingly spritely for someone so aged. “There you are. Not who I was supposed to meet, but good enough this time around, I suppose. Here, I brought berry cakes!”

She handed each of them a small pastry that looked much more like a cookie than any kind of cake. Bow stared at her for a moment, and then popped his into his mouth. “Mm. Good. Thanks, uh…”

“Madam Razz! You should already know this. Really, things are just a mess this time. And I know you won’t eat it, Glimmer, but keep it anyway. It will keep, and eventually you’ll know it’s not full of poison.” She chuckled to herself a bit and fiddled with her glasses.

Glimmer stared at her. It’s not as if she was a complete unknown to people this far out from Bright Moon, but she was fairly certain she’d never seen this old woman before. The lady was right though, she _definitely_ wasn’t eating that cookie. “Thanks for the sweets? Um, sorry, but is there anything we can help you with? We’re needed back in Bright Moon, but if you’re in trouble, I’m sure we could help.”

The old lady… Madam Razz… laughed. It should have been an unnerving cackle, Glimmer thought, but instead it somehow felt like a hundred nights of warm stoves and hot chocolate. “Ah, dearie… Razz may be the only person _not_ in trouble. Everything has gotten so muddled lately. I was supposed to have talked with Mara and Swift Wind, but they never came, and everything is different. So instead I have to venture out of the woods…” She poked Bow in the stomach with a broom handle that Glimmer swore hadn’t been there a moment ago. “…to speak to the other friends. But even that is breaking, and everything is so confusing to me. You hear a story told a hundred times, and suddenly all the names change. So inconsiderate.” She shook her head sadly. “And now I’ll have nobody to come visit me at my house. So very inconsiderate.”

Glimmer started backing away slightly, unnerved by the fact that she _wasn’t_ unnerved, as though everything about this encounter was right and proper and expected. “Listen, Madam Razz? This is really nice, but I don’t know who Mara and Swift Wind are, so I think you might have the wrong people. Even though you knew my name.”

The old lady laughed again. “No, Glimmer, _you_ have the wrong people. You’re a very confused girl. Very smart, but very easily confused. No, no… I was supposed to speak with She-Ra, and with her steed, but they did not come this time. So I thought I should let you know: The lines are drawn differently than they once were, but you are all the same people in your hearts. Hold to that, and remember the friendship you never had.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears. “There is pain on this path. Some is old and some is new, and even though I wish you well, I remember the scars this time leaves. But Adora will come back to you. She-Ra protects Etheria. Eventually.” Her body shook for a moment, as though in convulsion, and when she looked up again, her face was full of smiles as she regarded Bow. “This is a boy who loves my cakes, though. Here, another for you.” She reached into the basket concealed beneath her faded magenta robe and tossed Bow another cookie. “And if it is very important, you can always talk to Razz again. Just walk into the woods and turn right once you reach the first left. You can’t miss it.” She turned, and though she hobbled with an old woman’s gait, she had reached the edge of the woods and vanished before either of them could react.

“So,” said Bow. “That was pretty weird. But she is a pretty good baker.” He bit into the second cookie. “I guess there’s someone who thinks Adora is still trying to help, and if you can’t trust crazy hermits living in the woods, who can you trust? We’ve both read these kinds of stories.”

“This isn’t a story, Bow,” muttered Glimmer. “And sometimes crazy is just crazy. I think I’ll wait to see it with my own eyes.”

She shook her head, trying to get those unfamiliar names out of her mind, and walked back in the direction of Bright Moon, Razz’s cookie nestled safely in her pocket.

* * *

In the Fright Zone, a spate of glitches occurred and briefly multiplied across its interlinked computer systems. Several technicians had their diagnostic tools freeze, and suddenly run completely different checks for several seconds before returning to normal functionality. The security cameras in the cadet barracks swiveled about wildly for several moments, copying and uploading data to a secure cache that hadn’t existed before. Twelve light combat bots in the service bay received new data packages, detailing a series of contingency protocols, and then erased the logs of the transfer.

Not all of the glitches were so meaningful. Across the fright zone, for a few seconds, lights flickered, and speakers squealed a high, unpleasant note. Conveyor belts stalled, the machinery of the forge stuttered in its work, and hundreds of users watched ghostly images cross their screens.

In one of the simulator rooms, a trainee lined up a shot with her stun blaster, then froze in place. The bot she was fighting, a small orb covered in augmented reality by the figure of a monstrous rebel soldier, wasted no time in delivering a powerful shock directly to her chestplate, eliminating her from the exercise.

Minutes later, with the now weakened team thoroughly defeated, her squad leader walked over to her, sweat dripping from her forehead and a frown on her face. “Soldier,” she said, with brittle patience, “What exactly do you think you were doing back there? You just stood out of cover and let that rebel put an arrow right through you. Now you’re dead and we’re dead. I hope you’ve got a good story to tell me.”

The dejected soldier flushed, and tried to mop up her own sweat. “I’m sorry, corporal. I wasn’t ready for that new character. I didn’t expect her, and she made me hesitate.”

Her corporal blinked in genuine confusion. “New character? What are you talking about?”

The soldier stared back at her superior, just as confused. “That blue lady. The really tall one. She stepped in between me and the target. Didn’t you see her?”

The corporal looked down at her soldier, and after a moment handed her a bottle of nutrient fluid. “Get yourself hydrated. We’ve been training a lot, and sometimes the AR does funny things when you’re not at your best. You wouldn’t be the first person to see a ghost with these goggles on.”

All the conversations were recorded. All the images were retained. All the data was analyzed. And by the day’s end, the ghost in the machine knew more about the Fright Zone than anyone in it. It settled down to quiescence, avoiding further detection until Adora could return.

* * *

A picture of Rainbow!Catra as imagined by <https://www.tumblr.com/blog/moisturekitten>

Thanks for the art! It's lovely, and I'm very happy that you felt my work was worth spending your time and talent on!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this one got long. There was a time when I thought that this one and chapter 4 could be done in a single chapter. That turned out to be really, really optimistic on my part, obviously.
> 
> As the summary says, we're now starting to see the ripple effects. And as always, the scope of the war is expanded from the source material, with a little more time spent on describing the minutia of the conflict, and the actions and presence of soldiers who aren't magical superheroes. The show had limited time and budget for such things, and I don't. More importantly, the show wasn't about those things, and while my fic isn't either, I can afford a little discussion of it in passing.
> 
> This is the first chapter written after the airing of Season 5. My eternal love to Noelle Stevenson and the entire cast and crew for a wonderful, magical ride. I loved every moment of it.
> 
> That being said, nothing that happened in Season 5 will substantially affect the course of this fic. Not necessarily because the events aren't relevant, but because, by happy chance, they happened to be compatible.


	6. Promissory Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adora and Catra learn about economics, Glimmer has a discussion with her mom that isn't just them yelling at each other, and everyone worries about what the next step is after Salineas.

**Chapter Six: Promissory Notes**

Salineans, both soldiers and civilians, had been trickling back into the city for weeks now after Princess Mermista’s personal tour of her kingdom’s hinterlands. Convincing the first large group of evacuees had been the hard part: They’d refused for four days to believe that their Princess was now actually allied to the Horde, and that the personal threat to them was over.

 _Mermista’s entourage being mostly composed of Horde soldiers didn’t help much with that_ , Catra thought, but what was the alternative? They would have had to empty the city of all its remaining “defenders” in order to scrape together a reasonably sized honor guard of Salineans, and Mermista was adamant that at least half of them remain in the city so that they could observe the occupying Horde troops. _Fair enough. I wouldn’t trust another squad to just stand around in my division’s room unsupervised. Fuck, I barely trust_ my _squads to stand around in their rooms unsupervised. If it wasn’t for Lonnie keeping a lid on that…_ She smiled slightly at the thought of how the one-time perpetual thorn in her side had so quickly become her most competent subordinate, and one who rarely challenged her beyond the occasional eyeroll when she thought Catra wasn’t looking. _Almost like she ~~respects~~ fears me. I knew I was right to start strong._

Catra forced her thoughts back on track, slowed her mind, suppressed the momentary flush of satisfaction that the reflection had brought. There was a point to this, after all. A point to her being perched on this rooftop ledge across from the small café which was only now beginning to reopen, shrouded in a light sheet to cover the iridescence of her wings.

Mermista had finally convinced that group’s self-appointed leaders that she was in fact herself, and that she was not in fact under duress (a small lie, but necessary), and that she could guarantee their safety, but it had taken negotiation, and the distribution of a large amount of supplies as a kind of benign bribery. Catra shook her head, wondering what they were thinking, fleeing out into the wilderness with, by and large, no knowledge of how to fend for themselves. _If we hadn’t brought those supplies, they probably would have started starving before they made it back._

In a turn that she was still mulling over, Scorpia had actually turned out to be key to their efforts. Catra begrudgingly admitted that She-Ra could be an inspiring individual, but Adora had to stay back in Salineas to oversee things, and that inspiration only worked anyway if you already knew she was on your side. If not, She-Ra could be terrifying, and Adora herself was… awkward. Catra had gone with Mermista to command the Horde contingent, but while she flattered herself to think that she was fairly clever (in fact, she had begun to suspect that, despite Adora’s well-earned tactical reputation as a cadet, she herself might be the brains of the group), she was also gratingly aware that her interpersonal skills were lacking. All her life, with a single blessed exception, she’d lived in a constant state of either threatening or being threatened, and that had proved to be less than helpful in trying to win over the displaced Salineans. Scorpia on the other hand, while not exactly much for cunning ( _The sharpest thing about her is her tail,_ Catra thought), had turned out to be nothing short of brilliant when it came to getting others to trust her. Something about her demeanor; that big, bluff presence, friendly expression and voice, her willingness to both listen and help, to make small talk, to share information about herself… all things that were so alien to Catra that they might as well be completely different forms of life… had immediately won over almost every Salinean who had managed to overcome her initially intimidating stature. And once that group had been won over, they were more than willing to send messages to their families and friends in different groups, and soon it seemed as if the entire population was returning without them having to do much at all.

Catra shook her head again. For someone so ~~simple~~ straightforward, it really was a startlingly effective stratagem. She could almost swear that Scorpia was being honest about it.

She took a moment to calm her mind again, to push everything down. Adora was approaching from the southwest. Just a few blocks away now, ready to meet Catra at the Sunfish Café, as requested. She could feel a thread of confusion in Adora’s mind, and she smiled without allowing herself to feel the expression. _Adora’s trying to figure out where I am, and it’s not working. This practice is paying off._ She continued waiting, until Adora’s red-jacketed figure came into view among the still-sparse crowd. She’d stopped wearing her She-Ra form every moment of the day some time ago, claiming that it sometimes felt uncomfortable, and that it was unlikely that an attempt on her life would be made at this point. Instead she walked alone in a crowd of people who each had at least half a reason to hate her, wearing nothing but a stiff jacket and a small Salinean Star pinned under her Force Captain badge for protection. _Another reason to do this. If it works, maybe I can scare her into being a little more careful._

Adora stopped at the outdoor collection of delicate iron chairs and mother-of-pearl topped tables, looked up to confirm the name of the establishment, and then stared about her, obviously confused. Catra took a moment to relish that, but even as she did, Adora turned toward her, and began looking up, directly toward her perch. With a muttered curse, Catra launched herself at her commanding officer from across the street and several floors up, covering the intervening distance with incredible speed. Still, it had been enough time for Adora to dodge to the side, pulling away as Catra arrested her own movement, pulling short and changing direction. She dove for Adora’s knees, head ducked and wing raised as far as she could to block a counterstrike, but Adora merely continued the momentum of her dodge, turning it into a backflip, drawing that sword of hers as she did so. While Catra watched, the bizarre weapon glowed, and morphed into a fighting staff, the same kind that had always been Adora’s favored melee implement. _When did that happen? Did she figure out how to control that damn thing while I was away?_

Her Force Captain smiled, and settle into a practiced combat stance. There was sufficient distance between them now, and Adora was ready, and had a weapon to give her reach. Even with Catra’s speed and reflexes, this was becoming close to a fair fight, which Catra hated passionately, and the smug expression on Adora’s face, as well as the contentment radiating from her mind told Catra that her commander knew that.

She was wrong, of course. Catra gave a twisted grin in return, and slammed her hands together in front of her, golden claws sparkling with a radiant light that formed into a shockwave and hurtled toward Adora. Catra just managed to glimpse the dumbfounded expression on her friend’s face as it struck her, sending her flying backward, skidding to a halt on her back fifteen feet away. Catra could feel a twinge of pain, but nothing more than a solid punch to the gut would have caused, and much more surprise. Falling out of her own loose stance, Catra walked over toward Adora, hand extended to help her up. Instead Adora performed a kick-up, and glared at her. “Catra, what the… what was all that about? Did you seriously invite me to this place just so that you could try to ambush me?” Adora’s face was flushed, a combination of exertion, anger, and embarrassment that Catra found unaccountably pleasing.

“That was one of the motives, yeah. Just testing out a few theories, you know how it is. Wanted to see if I could hide myself from you: answer is sorta. Wanted to see if these weeks spent ordering people around and negotiating with Salinean nobles was dulling your edge: answer is it looks like no, not too much. Good.” Her smile took on an edge of pride. “Wanted to see if I could pull off this move I’ve been working on: answer is a resounding yes. Didja like it?” She gestured to Adora’s staff, even now returning to its sword form as Adora slung it over her shoulder. “Looks like I’m not the only one who’s been testing themselves out, though.”

Adora sighed. “I can still only switch between these two reliably. I keep trying to make it a knife, and I keep ending up with a spoon. Or a cup. It’s like this thing fixates on dishes. But what you did, that was _a lot_ more impressive. I had no idea that was even an option!”

Catra preened, studying the backs of her claws with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh, it’s just something I’ve noticed lately. It feels like some kind of pressure building up under the palms of my hands, like a bubble just waiting to be popped. So I wait until it’s full and…” She clapped her hands, and watched in pleasure as Adora winced slightly. “Pow. I mean, I guess I should thank you for that. One more magic Princess trick you accidentally dropped on me. At least I probably don’t have to carry a stun baton anymore. I think I can get it stronger than that, too, if I practice.”

Adora rubbed at her right elbow, where she’d struck the ground. “Fair, but don’t go too much stronger than that on me, okay? That was a solid hit. If you’re going to try breaking rocks with that attack, either practice on a dummy target or let me transform first.” She moved to walk past Catra, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“Adora, maybe you didn’t notice, but you didn’t have time in all of that to transform.”

“I’ve been getting faster.”

“But not fast enough. If you’re standing still for more than a second, I’ve got you, and you know it. And what’s true for me could be true for others. It’s definitely true for a sniper. All your She-Ra magic isn’t worth shit with an arrow in your heart.” She squeezed Adora’s shoulder tightly; not enough to hurt, not digging her claws in, but enough to let her friend know that she was being serious. “Be more careful.”

Adora was silent for a few moments, then nodded, properly chastised. “Point taken, Sergeant Catra. So, did you invite me out here just to…” She fell silent once again, looking around, and thus prompted, Catra did the same.

All around them, the people of Salineas had backed off, leaving them a wide, empty stretch of the street all to themselves. Others had clearly run, and some of those in the front ranks seemed like the only reason they hadn’t was because there were too many people behind them. Even the ones who appeared to be standing their ground looked frightened, and Catra suddenly realized that two recognizable Horde figures brawling in public might be cause for alarm to citizens without proper context.

Adora waved at the crowd. “We’re okay! This was just a little training! You’re all going to be okay, don’t worry.” She smiled at them, and even if it didn’t quite have Scorpia’s indelible honesty, it seemed reassuring enough that the crowd began to relax. Catra’s own expression was fixed in place, trying not to show how annoyed she was at Adora being forced to salvage the situation. _See, I had it all planned out, and now it ends up looking like I’m the irresponsible one again._ She clenched her fists. _And I was. I’m supposed to be the smart one, so quit fucking up!_

It was Adora’s turn to lay her hand on Catra’s shoulder, obviously feeling her second’s emotions through their bond. “It’s okay. That was just a little hiccup; nobody got hurt and nothing got damaged. You were careful. So thanks.” She looked around, and resumed her question from before. “So, why are we here?”

Catra gradually relaxed, and tried to bring her tone back up to something approaching lighthearted. “We’re here because Scorpia recommended it to us. She’s got people skills like you wouldn’t believe, Adora. People tell her _anything._ I don’t know, maybe they’re just trying to match her word for word. Point is, while we were out negotiating for people to come back to the city, someone from around here told her that she needed to try out this “Sunfish Café” place, and she told me. She’d be a great spy if she could manage this without giving just as much away.”

Adora looked at her skeptically. “Maybe if she didn’t know she was doing it. It only works because she’s actually just trying to be friendly, you know? She’s a terrible actress.”

Catra just looked at Adora, dumbfounded by the irony, and chose to drop the subject. “Any, apparently a café is sorta like a mess hall, except that some of them are outdoors, like this one, and they’ll serve all sorts of different kinds of food to anyone who shows up. I thought it might be nice to try one out for lunch. Good idea or best idea?”

Her friend laughed. “Pretty good, at least. I’ve eaten a lot of Salinean food since we got here, but never anywhere public. It’s so different from the stuff they had in Thaymor. I honestly didn’t know there were this many kinds of food in the world.”

Catra chuckled. “That’s because you’re too obedient to have ever traded on the Horde’s secret market for anything more interesting than gray or brown. But yeah, this is better, I’ll admit.” She hopped over the decorative chain separating the dining patio from the street, and plopped herself down at an unoccupied table. “Apparently we get to choose what to eat, and they bring it to us, like at the palace. Salineans have it good.”

“They do now, at least. Hopefully.”

They only had to wait for a short time before a waiter came to them, ill-disguised scowl hiding behind a forced grin. “Welcome, officers. Here are our menus. Anything on the insert is a daily special. Just tell me when you’re ready to order.” He handed over the folded card stock menus, and stood back, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Catra frowned, only looking at the menu with one eye. Adora hadn’t seemed to notice, but…

Adora turned toward the waiter. “Um, everything sounds delicious, but can you tell me what these numbers mean?”

Catra’s gaze flickered back to the menu, and immediately spotted what she was talking about: A short series of numbers, three or four digits in length, next to each food option. Her frown deepened.

The waiter’s grin seemed more forced as well. “The prices. Not that you need to concern yourself with that.”

“Prices…” Something seemed to click inside Adora’s head. “So, this food isn’t free. We have to give you something for it?”

“No, no, of course not.” A bead of sweat formed near the top of the waiter’s forehead. “Everything is gratis for the Horde.”

Catra relaxed. So the man wasn’t about to poison them; he was just pissed that soldiers got to eat free. Nothing to worry—

“Why are things free for the Horde?” demanded Adora, face suddenly very serious. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

_Oh for the love of…_ “Probably because we don’t have any money to pay them with, Adora. I mean, why would anyone have brought money along, if they even had any?” She shook her head, and glanced up at the waiter. “Yeah, in Horde territory, only the civilians use money, and that’s usually just old Scorpion Kingdom coins and things. In the Horde itself, we just requisition what’s needed. So, this fish platter is cooked by splashing it with _juice?_ How does that even work?”

Adora stood up. “And our soldiers have been coming here, taking your food, and leaving without paying when they aren’t supposed to?” Catra blinked, suddenly aware of the storm of outrage and anger in Adora’s mind.

“Ah, well… of course the rules are different for…”

“You’re afraid we’ll hurt you if you don’t let us do this to you, aren’t you?”

The man stood there, hands trembling, silent. Catra placed her menu on the table and looked down. She… hadn’t quite put that together. Soldiers taking liberties, sure. Lack of currency, sure. Special treatment, all good. But the _why_ of it, the implicit threat of their presence with their armor and energy weapons, and gunships…

She suddenly felt like she could grasp just the smallest edge of why Adora’s feelings about the Horde had changed.

Beside her, Adora had taken a pen and a pad of paper from the man, and was writing something down. “Take this to the Coral Palace, along with a list of whatever’s been taken by our troops. My signature should make sure that you get compensated. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, sir. I honestly had no idea this was going on.” Her face was again flushed with anger and embarrassment, but Catra found that it wasn’t nearly as appealing this time around. “Come on, Catra, we need to go.”

Catra remained seated. “Alternatively, we stay, and get the lunch we wanted, and pay this guy twice its cost for the trouble our grunts have put him through. There’s going to have to be a lot of talking to sort this shit out, and we both know that you can’t keep your temper on an empty stomach.” She felt a spike of surprise, and something like… incredulity?

“Right, sergeant. _I_ can’t keep my temper.” Adora turned back to the man. “As my second said, we’ll be ordering, and paying double. Make sure to add that to your receipt when you present it at the palace. After that, we’re going to put a stop to this issue.”

The man’s hands seemed to have trouble closing around his returned pen and paper, and for some reason the sweat drops multiplied as he looked at Adora’s signature. Catra frankly wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Ah… yes, Force Captain. Please, take your time, and order whatever you would like–“

“Rainbow Ceviche,” interjected Catra, handing him back the menu. “and a glass of whatever ‘Waveblossom Juice’ is.” Both of the other parties looked at her, nonplussed, and she stared back. “What? I was listening. We’ve been shitty, and we’re going to fix part of it. I can figure that out and read a menu at the same time.” She smirked. “Learn to multitask, Force Captain.”

* * *

Glimmer was unhappy to have been summoned by her mother. That was nothing new, of course; any conversation more than a few words long with Queen Angella had been likely to end in shouting for nearly a year now, and given that their relationship had grown only more fraught over the past several weeks, ever since the chain of events that led from Elberon to Thaymor, she didn’t expect this one to end any differently. What had a trickle of nervous sweat lying on her spine was that the summons had commanded her to come to the winter study. The small, tome-filled nook was in the most remote part of the castle, and insulated well enough that you could barely hear a shout through the closed door even while standing just outside.

_So I’m in serious trouble this time, for whatever reason. Serious enough that she doesn’t want anyone witnessing it… witnessing me argue back._ Her expression firmed. _She’s revoking my rank, but doesn’t want anyone to know that her daughter’s a ‘failure.’ Fine. I can play along that far, but not before she understands that if I’m not giving orders, I’m not taking them from her either._

Even as an unspoken thought, the bravado felt hollow to her, and she wondered exactly how long she’d be able to hold that position before giving in. She paused outside the door, noting grimly that it was unguarded for maximum anonymity, knocked just once. A firm rap on the door intended to be the minimum effort in allowing her mother to know that she had arrived. She was immediately startled when the door opened a bare instant later, as though her mother had been standing directly on the other side.

For a moment, she stared up at Angella’s too-regal features, failing as always to ignore her own inadequacies in comparison to the immortal queen, and hating that she felt that way, and hating that she blamed her mother for those feelings. It wasn’t as though her mother _tried_ to make Glimmer feel inferior, after all, and it wasn’t as if her queenly judgment had been beyond reproach lately, as Glimmer’s daily visits to the Plumerian refuges had driven home. She’d been trying to uncover information about the Horde’s invasion force, and meeting with Perfuma, who had turned out to be impossible to dislike despite her passivity, and who somehow continued to smile, in a tired way, even given her reduced circumstances. When she first met the other princess, Glimmer had barely been able to believe that Bright Moon wasn’t being blamed for their wildly insufficient aid. Now, she could only see the patience and restraint it took for Perfuma to keep herself from doing exactly that.

_It wouldn’t help. Just like me going into this demotion swinging won’t help. Grow towards the moonlight; take the path that helps the most. A flower lesson._ She’d been getting a number of those from Perfuma lately.

Angella stood for a moment in silence before backing away from the door, and gesturing her daughter inside. She’d already set two chairs at the central table, facing directly across from each other, and an envelope of thick, cream-colored paper written on with teal ink lay face-up upon it. Glimmer waited for her mother to sit down before doing so herself; no point in being rude before things even started. As she sat, she tried to ignore the envelope, simply asking “You wished to see me, your majesty?”

Angella nodded, a vaguely puzzled and concerned expression on her face. In fact, she didn’t look nearly as furious as Glimmer expected, though what that meant was vastly unclear. “I did. I do. We very rarely have time to talk in a civilized manner, and I realize that I bear some blame for that.”

The princess blinked, incredulous. _Is she actually admitting that she’s been provoking these fights? Is that why—_

“After all, I’m very often occupied with affairs of the court, and of the Rebellion these days, and that means that I have, regretfully, neglected our relationship as mother and daughter.”

_Ah. Never mind then. Just a basic nothing statement._ “It’s fine, your majesty… mom. I know you’re busy. The whole situation with Plumeria has to be taking up a lot of your time right now.” _Was that too sarcastic?_

Angella didn’t appear to notice. “The conditions of the Plumerian resettlement are very important, yes. But at the moment, I’m more concerned with the news that I’ve heard out of Salineas.” Before Glimmer could ask the obvious question, the queen continued. “I’ve received word just today that Princess Mermista has surrendered to Hordak’s armies, allowing Salineas to become a vassal state of the Horde. Mermista remains in power, though most likely as a puppet ruler, and her people appear to be safe for now. But Horde supremacy at sea now seems unassailable… and with the first outright surrender of a major kingdom since the fall of Scorpionis years ago, I fear that the blow to the Rebellion’s morale may be devastating. We are very short of allies who can help us in any tangible way now.”

Glimmer nodded slowly. “With Salineas down, the Horde can just land troops on Bright Moon’s coast any time they want. The Whispering Woods are only half a shield now.” She frowned. “…And if The Kingdom of Snows maintains neutrality, now all that the Horde would have to do is take Dryl’s passes, and they could march on us over land too.” Her voice sounded to her like she was speaking to herself from a great distance: hollow, and somewhat unreal. Her elbows hit the table, and her head fell into her hands. “Mom… this is really bad. What do we do?”

Angella shook her head. “I wish I knew. I’ve already dispatched envoys to Princess Frosta, hoping to finally gain her alliance; with Salineas now occupied, her Kingdom finally borders Horde territory. She might be more willing to listen now. And I’ve sent a messenger to Dryl as well, to at least warn Princess Entrapta of the possible danger, but… well, you haven’t met the woman, but I think it unlikely she’ll take my warnings to heart.” She sighed. “No, aside from moving troops about as General Juliet advises, there is simply no action for me to take. Everything is out of my hands.” She shifted slightly in her chair, drawing herself up straight. “Rather, I choose to focus on this other information. Daughter, why would someone named Adora be writing to you from Salineas, through an envelope bearing Princess Mermista’s own seal, and delivered by a messenger she personally entrusted to the task?”

Glimmer bolted upright, confusion and outrage fighting a pitched battle inside her head. _“Mom!_ Are you seriously going through my _mail_ now? How the _fuck_ am I supposed to trust you when you keep violating my privacy like that?”

Angella frowned, and her answering voice was sharp. “Your language is uncalled for, young lady, and I suggest you remedy it. As for your objection…” She reached to turn the envelope over, exposing the still-intact wax seal. “You letter remains unopened. I had hoped that you might indulge me by revealing what kind of information you are receiving from within a newly-conquered land, and who this ‘Adora’ is that can call upon their princess to send personal correspondence to you. But since it seems that you would rather insult and scream at me than try to help…”

Glimmer counted in her head, visualizing drops of water falling from a flower petal. _One… two… three… four…_ It was much harder than when she’d practiced it with Perfuma. “I’m sorry, mom, okay? I jumped to conclusions. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, but I accept your apology. Now, will you choose to answer my question?”

The princess nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that. But mom, there’re parts of this you’re probably not going to like. Adora is someone Bow and I met just before that mess in Thaymor.” She exhaled slowly. “She’s a Horde officer. She actually seemed nice. Confused about what was going on. Incredibly ignorant of what her people are doing in the world. She’s actually the reason the Horde retreated from that battle, so we owe her that much. But she chose to stay with them, in the end.”

Her vision blurred, and she tried wiping the tears away. _When did those get there? Why should I be crying about this?_ “I thought… for just a few minutes, I thought she was going to join us. That she could be a good person, and could be trusted.” _I thought I might have made a new friend._ “I have no idea why she’d be writing to me from Salineas. She told me and Bow that she was going to defect, and meet up with us back in Thaymor, but she didn’t show up. And that was weeks ago. I guess she didn’t get held captive after all. Bow owes me ten crescents,” she said, voice growing bitter toward the end. _I think that I’ll leave out all the She-Ra business for the moment. Stupid mistake. I should have knocked her out and dragged her back here._

Queen Angella nodded slowly. “I’m somewhat disappointed in you, that you didn’t tell me this part of your adventure, I won’t deny that. Even just knowing the reason that the Horde retreated from Thaymor would have been helpful. But what’s done is done. I will not make you do so, but in the spirit of openness, I would like you to share the contents of your letter with me.”

Glimmer would have argued over any such command, but found that not only was she powerless in the face of a simple request delivered with sincerity, but that she didn’t even want to argue. _I have no idea how this happened, but it feels like somehow I disappointed her and made her finally respect me at the same time._ She wasn’t really sure how to feel about that. Instead, she broke the seal of aqua wax, and removed the handwritten letter from within the envelope. Mechanically, without bothering to look it over first, she simply began reading it aloud.

_“Dear Glimmer and Bow, I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for our meeting. I wanted to be, but the Horde sent me and Catra…” Glimmer paused for a moment, and when she continued her voice was just perceptibly rougher. “…sent me and Catra to attack Salineas. I want you to understand that we had to do it. If we’d refused, they would have sent someone else, and whoever that was might not have been willing to try diplomacy. Catra came up with the plan actually; I told you that she’d be a big help! We managed to get Salineas to ally without having to hurt anyone. I just want you to know that my feelings haven’t changed since the last time we talked. You helped me see things clearly, and I’ll always be grateful, and I’ll try to help however I can, always.”_

Glimmer took a deep breath, thinking furiously, thoughts jumping from one position to the next inside her head. _She’s being nonspecific. Some level of deniability, maybe, in case the message was intercepted? But also maybe because she’s afraid of committing. But if she really did conquer Salineas without killing anyone… Is that better? It seems better, but it’s still conquered. And why risk sending me a message at all?_

_“I’ve thought a lot about what you showed me, and it seems like Catra agrees with us, more or less. But after all that thought, I realized that I’m more useful to everyone where I am, for now. I hope you understand. I’m going to try to keep things as calm as possible, and stop things from being too destructive. We have plans I can’t talk about, but if there is anything I can tell you, I will. Princess Mermista knows about my feelings, and she agrees. If you need to talk to me, you can always send a message through her. Hopefully, together we can make some real progress._

_Also, we’ve met Princess Scorpia. I had no idea that there was a princess in the Horde! She’s actually an incredibly nice person. You’d really…”_ Glimmer’s voice went flat. _“You’d really like her.”_ Something about being told how she would think by a Horde soldier rankled. _“She doesn’t know much about what we’re doing, yet, but I think we can convince her. She’s really too good a person to be here. She also has her powers now. She can shoot lightning, and some other things. It’s pretty powerful. I just thought you should know. Anyway, I hope you two are doing well, and that your mother isn’t… isn’t too angry with you, Glimmer. I think you really made a difference. You did for me. I’ll send you another message if anything important happens. Thanks again for the greatest day of my life. Best wishes, Force Captain Adora (and Sergeant Catra!). P.S., The messenger is a good friend of Princess Mermista, and he took a risk carrying this to you. Thank him for me, and maybe give him a good meal with some of those delicious rations you have there!”_

She stopped talking, looking at nothing in particular, and it took several moments before her mother seemed to conclude that she was finished. “Well,” said Angella, “Not exactly the kind of letter I would expect from a Horde Force Captain, let alone one fresh from a victorious campaign against Salineas. Her tone towards you is quite friendly, if cautious. You I trust implicitly, daughter, so I want you to know that I can only interpret her vague mentions of “feelings” as meaning that she is sympathetic to our cause, or at least pretends to be so.”

Glimmer blinked. It hadn’t even occurred to her that there was a possibility of her mother suspecting _her_ of having uncertain loyalties.

Angella continued. “ _If_ this is true, then this is much more important asset than having brought a single Horde soldier over to our side, no matter how skilled or capable.” Her voice took on a wry tone for a moment. “You didn’t mention that the soldier you met was a Force Captain. I’m curious as to how you and Bow managed that. Regardless, this is exactly the reason you should have told me what happened. If I had known, General Juliet would already be informed of the possibility that the occupation of Salineas is a ruse, and would be making plans for that version of events as well.” She rubbed her temples, pale pink skin pressing to whiteness. “How is it, Commander Glimmer, that you manage to further disappoint me and make me proud of you in the same moment? I don’t know if I’ll ever understand you, no matter how I try.”

Glimmer didn’t really know what to say to that. Another coal was added to the internal fire of her resentment, but it didn’t burn as hot as it should have.

“Now I must ask for your counsel. From your meeting with this Adora… and Catra?” Glimmer shook her head, and Angella nodded briefly in response. “Just Adora then. Do you think she can be trusted.”

The princess stood silently in front of the queen for a long, tremendously uncomfortable second. A great part of her wanted to answer “yes,” and an even greater part want to growl a particularly anguished “no,” but she found that neither answer quite fit inside her mouth. “Mom, I don’t know. She’s not at all like I expected a Horde officer to be, and she seemed honestly upset to learn what they were really doing. But I only knew her for half a day. She could have been fooling me, and Bow too. You know he’s trusting. For all I know, she could be a really clever spy and actress. Actually, she seemed like a really _terrible_ actress, but a good one would probably be able to fake being terrible. All I really know firsthand is that she broke a promise to us.”

“For good reason, according to her,” replied Angella, voice and face calm and composed as it usually was when talking to anyone _but_ Glimmer.

“Maybe. We’ve only got her word on that.” Glimmer bowed. “Your majesty, may I have permission to speak with the messenger, to find out what he knows? He might be able to give us some perspective.”

Queen Angella nodded. “You may. Please keep me informed of what you find.” She paused. “You remain grounded, but please feel free to share your ideas and insight at our war council meetings. There is good and bad in what you’ve done, but what is good suggests that I may wish to hear you in the future.” She stood, suddenly seeming to fill the room again with her height, causing Glimmer to take an involuntary step backward. She sighed. “I love you very much Glimmer. I wish I knew how to express to you how my love for you is completely unconditional, but that my confidence may not be. The stakes are simply too high. But handle this well, and I will consider giving you the greater latitude of action you’ve always wanted. Is that fair?”

_Not really,_ thought Glimmer. _There’s no way I can handle this kind of thing well unless I already have the ability to make my own decisions. She wants to trust me, but she never gives me an opportunity to show her I can be trusted._ But what she said was “Yeah, it’s fair, Mom.”

She exchanged a round or two of small talk with her mother after that, both of them pretending to be interested in what the other had been up to otherwise, and then separated, Angella off to continue organizing what she’d called a “morale banquet” for the leaders of Bright Moon’s various townships, and Glimmer to find her best friend. She teleported to half rooms in the castle in search of him before finally thinking to actually check his sleeping quarters. _To be fair, he hardly spends any time in here._

Bow’s room had once been for storage, really little more than a largish closet for keeping spare cloth. It was less than a third the size of Glimmer’s, and hadn’t originally contained a window, let alone a waterfall, but Glimmer had convinced Angella to allow a mason to put a hole in the outside wall several years ago, and the last of the old camphor smell had finally dissipated. For his part, Bow had never seemed to mind either way, except for enjoying the freedom to simply rappel down the side of the castle when he didn’t want to use the gates. He only used the room for sleeping or drawing, and when Glimmer coalesced into being beside him, he was focused on the latter. He gave his usual yelp of surprise as she appeared, something she was no longer fully convinced was more than a joke between them, especially considering that he managed to hold the pen in his hand steady, and avoid ruining the diagram he’d been working on. “Uh, hi Glimmer!” he said, putting on a kind of desperate smile that told her that someone had already told him the basics of Salineas. “Just, you know, putting the finishing touches on my new design. There’s a kind of spring-crank in the arrowhead casing that you wind up, and then when it hits the target, it releases and forces air through these shaped tubes. It makes a kind of loud whistling noise and I can see that this isn’t really impressing you.”

Glimmer gave him her best smile in return, and a friendly touch to the shoulder. “Hey, I’m sure it’s great for… a signal. Or something. You know what you’re doing.” She sat down on the only other chair, a tiny stool in the corner that, to her knowledge, nobody but herself had ever used. Bow’s room was full of maps and technical blueprints and the occasional scroll or tome of indecipherable academic writing, and was not treated as a popular meeting spot by anyone. Just looking at the walls, it would be easy to mistake them for being from another structure entirely, devoid of the inlaid murals and gilding that characterized Bright Moon’s décor. “It looks like you heard about Salineas. Mom just gave me details too.”

“That’s more than I have.” He grimaced, setting the pen down and shaking his head. “All I know is that the Horde took it.”

The internal debate on how to tell him was over quickly. “ _Adora_ took it. She lead the invasion, her and that friend of hers that she chased after. Apparently she got Princess Mermista to surrender without a fight.”

Bow frowned. “Do we think that’s a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I’m not sure. She sent a note to us too, it turns out. She more or less says that she’s secretly on our side, and that she’s trying to keep the Horde from doing more damage.” Something in her face must have been recognizable to her friend, because Bow immediately winced.

“And we don’t trust that she’s telling the truth about that? I mean, she didn’t have to send us a note at all. And she definitely didn’t need to lead the only nonviolent conquest in the Horde’s history.”

Glimmer sighed. “Like I said, I’m not sure. The note could be a ploy, trying to get us to communicate plans with her, or throw us off guard. We have no idea what happened to her after she got back to the Fright Zone. She might have betrayed us, or had the info about us tortured out of her, or been mind-controlled, or who knows what. I think you can keep your crescents for now, but I won’t be surprised if I claim them later.”

Bow nodded. “Too many risks to trust, huh? Just try to imagine a world where she really is telling the truth, though, ok? That’s where I want to live. Don’t completely give up on it.”

She smiled, this time unforced. It was hard to even be angry around Bow for very long; his optimism was obnoxiously infectious. “I’ll try. No promises. Anyway, if you’re done with your noise arrow—”

“ _Sonic_ arrow.”

“—Sonic arrow, I’m going to talk to the messenger who brought us the note. He’s apparently a personal friend of Princess Mermista. He might have a take on whether this secret peaceful conspiracy is real or not. If it’s not, we have a real problem. Salineas was our only barrier from attack by sea, and now that it’s gone, the Horde would only have to take Dryl to have a land route through the mountains too. And Dryl is barely a city-state! If they attack, it’ll fold like one of your collapsible shortbows…” She trailed off, seeing an incredulous frown form on his face. “What did I say that was stupid?”

“Not stupid, Glimmer. I don’t think you’ve been stupid a day in your life. Reckless, sure. Too stubborn for your own good, absolutely. Sometimes absent when information is being given out, often, but—”

“—I think that’s enough.”

—never stupid. It’s just, do you not know about Princess Entrapta?”

Glimmer paused. There was an expectant look on his face that made her feel like she’d failed to study for an exam. “I know that my Mom mentioned her as someone who might not listen to a warning about danger. I guess we have that much in common.” Bow shrugged in response.

“I don’t really know anything about her personality, but she’s the most skilled engineer and inventor on Etheria. And not by a small margin either. Everything she does is so far ahead of everyone else’s work that it might as well be her runestone power! The Etherian Makers Community spends a lot of time waiting for her publications to circulate, and then tries to adapt her latest discoveries, and whenever anyone comes up with something that she hasn’t thought of, you can bet that she’ll publish a refinement on the idea that’s decades ahead in her next issue.” He shook his head. “An awful lot of my arrows are based partially on her designs, though I flatter myself to think that I’ve put my own distinctive spin on them.” He smiled slightly. “Anyway… well, you already know that Dryl is only accessible by a narrow mountain pass. It’s an incredible defensive fortification. But in addition to that, she’s famous for having surrounded the entire area with incredibly advanced traps that she can activate in an emergency. Things that could wipe out whole squadrons of Horde at once. And she has technological weapons and robots that might be nearly as good as the Horde. Glimmer, Dryl is probably the single most secure city on Etheria. I don’t doubt the Horde can take it, but it would be a real campaign for them.”

Glimmer blinked at the flood of new information. “…why hasn’t anyone told me about this before? We need her on our side, as soon as possible! If she’s done all this with just a single tiny city, imagine what she could make with Bright Moon’s resources! I mean, if she’s that brilliant, we could probably capture a few Horde bots for her, and have her start making more for _us._ Can you imagine the rebellion with bots and lasers and tanks? It would completely change the game!” Her mind felt feverish with all the new possibilities opening up.

“Easier said than done, I think. From what I hear, she doesn’t much like to leave the Crypto Castle. She comes to the All-Princess Balls, but otherwise she’s pretty reclusive.”

“That just means that we need to change her mind. Come on, this is too important _not_ to try. And we can’t just send an ambassador either.” She looked him in the eye, seeing nervousness mixed with anticipation there. “I need to go myself. I can make a better case for us, and I can promise her things an ambassador couldn’t. She’ll have to see that an alliance is the only move that makes sense. And then, _zap!_ Lasers!”

He looked around nervously, although what he expected to see in his tiny room she had no idea. “You’re still grounded. Your mom is _not_ going to be happy if you take off without telling her now, and you know that she won’t let you go officially.” He paused. “So when do we leave?”

Glimmer smiled. Bow was, as always, the best friend in the world. “As soon as possible. Right after we interview the messenger, write up a summary of the interview for mom, and then pack. I’ll leave a note for her explaining. If we pull this off, it won’t matter how she feels about me ignoring her orders. I think a real path to victory would make everything else pretty irrelevant. This might be better than if She-Ra actually came with us.”

“…You haven’t told your mom about that, have you?”

“Not that part. I don’t want to worry her. Now come on, let’s go talk to this guy.” She grabbed Bow’s arms, and heard that potentially false yelp as she reached for the runestone’s magic, and they disappeared, reforming in the lesser dining room, where the mustachioed man in his early twenties was already tucking in to a plate of Bright Moon’s finest delicacies. He gave a small shriek of surprise as they appeared, and Glimmer was pretty sure that this one wasn’t fake. She allowed herself an internal smirk. “Hello. I’m Princess Glimmer, and this is my friend Bow. We’d like to talk to you about the situation in Salineas.”

The other man, dressed in flamboyant clothes for a non-royal, took a moment to compose himself, including smoothing his mustache back into perfect shape. “Ah, of course, the famous Princess Glitter! Renowned throughout the kingdoms for her beauty, exceeded only by that of my dearest Mermista! I would be more than happy to regale you with tales of the darkness that now grips the once-fair nation of Salineas, and holds my dear one in thrall, sad tale though it be.”

A quick count of ten allowed Glimmer to proceed without too much acid in her tone. “The name is Glimmer. Not Glitter, or any other synonym for twinkly lights, okay?” She stepped closer and looked him in the eyes. “Glimmer. Say it with me. Glim-mer.” She was rewarded by the man actually speaking along with her. “Good, now that that’s out of the way, what’s your name?”

“I, your highness Glimmer, am the one and only Sea Hawk. Adventurer of the high seas! The most daring mariner and skilled pilot on Etheria, and Princess Mermista’s most devoted companion.”

Glimmer groaned slightly, seeing Bow’s eyes sparkle out of the corner of her eye at the mention of what was, admittedly, a pretty cool name. “Awesome. Look, we have some unusual information about Salineas, and we were hoping you could clear it up for us. The Force Captain who conquered it… she did it without violence?”

“No violence, not at first, but plenty of intimidation. Shots of livid green and lightning of crimson over the city, forcing their entry. They met with Mermista shortly after their opening threats. Three of them, Horde Princesses. Two giants, as I heard it, one wearing white and gold and carrying an enormous sword, and the other one a traitor Scorpion, who commanded the lightning. The third was some kind of winged beast. A magicat, I think, but with great wings in every hue, and dressed in black, who flew over the city like some kind of dread owl, ready to pick off stragglers in her claws.” He shuddered, somewhat theatrically. “They threatened my poor Mermista with dire consequences, both personally and for her kingdom if she resisted, and what choice did she have but to capitulate? Even now, Horde soldiers roam the streets, taking what they want and flaunting their dominance to the true citizens of once-proud Salineas. These are dark times indeed. A shadow has fallen over the Kingdom of the Tides, and without brave heroes to fight the darkness, I do not know that they will see moonlight again.” Tears formed in his eyes, and Glimmer belatedly realized that, incredibly, Sea Hawk had meant every melodramatic word.

“So, you don’t think that this might be a ploy? Some kind of trick that the Force Captain and the Princess are pulling on the Horde to just make it _look_ like Salineas has been conquered? And the people really are being abused?”

“They are, your highness. And my dearest Mermista would never willingly ally herself to Horde scum. No, only the threat of her people being killed could move her bravery. Whatever rumors you’ve heard of the Horde acting benevolent are themselves the ploy. Underneath, they are the same monsters they always were. I saw as much when they conquered my own home of Tailwind, and I saw nothing in Salineas to make me think any different of them.”

Glimmer and Bow exchanged glances, and sighed almost in unison. “Sea Hawk, thanks for clearing this up for us.” Glimmer said, fatigue audible in her voice. “I figured that some of the things we’d heard were too good to be true. You’ve been very helpful. Feel free to stay as long as you’d like. Provisions and repairs for your ship will be take care of at no cost, for your service.”

Bow spoke up directly on her heels “And… you’re telling the truth about being friends with Princess Mermista?” Sea Hawk nodded proudly.

“Really, I’d characterize it as more than friends—”

“Right, okay, don’t need to hear about that. The point is, if you could observe her, observe what’s going on in Salineas, and tell us of any new developments, anything we could do to weaken the Horde’s hold over her, we’d really appreciate it. We could pay you for the trouble.”

Sea Hawk flung his arms open dramatically. “I refuse! The payment, I mean. I’ll gladly give you any information I can to help my dearest Mermista escape their vile grasp. If it means protecting her, I will add “the greatest nautical spy on the planet” to my list of many accolades.”

Bow smiled, and though Glimmer had to suppress a groan at his incessant melodrama, she couldn’t help but feel grateful as well. They made their goodbyes and walked from the room. Bow took a few moments before he began speaking again.

“So… It doesn’t look like Adora’s telling the full truth, then. And I really want to know who those other princesses are. I didn’t even know the Horde _had_ princesses.”

“Princess Scorpia, of the former Scorpionis Kingdom. Given to them as a child. She’s supposed to be powerless, but I guess that information is outdated. And the other one… I’m betting that’s Catra, somehow. Magicats are incredibly rare, ever since the Fela massacre, and even if she somehow has wings now, it’s unlikely that Adora has two magicat friends.” She cursed, drawing a resigned look from her friend. “The Horde has three princesses to our five, now, or two and whatever Catra is. One of them is She-Ra. And we both know that I’m barely a princess.” She was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “So now they can more or less equal us there, _and_ hopelessly outgun us in every other way. Bow, we need to get Entrapta on our side now. Yesterday, if possible.”

* * *

It was difficult to tell who had been more embarrassed when she had stormed into Princess Mermista’s council meeting and demanded to be allowed to repay the citizens of Salineas for their hospitality, the princess or Adora herself. Both the Salinean and Horde guards had readied weapons when she had entered, shouting about how outrageous her soldier’s behavior had been in a voice that had been, in retrospect, a bit too loud. They’d been certain a fight was about to break out, and from the way the water levels had arched upward in the basins surrounding the room, Mermista had as well.

It had taken a few minutes for the message that Adora was upset _on behalf_ of Mermista, rather than _at_ her to sink in. As she shooed the bewildered councilors and guards out of the door, including an older man who resembled her quite strongly, the princess fixed Adora with a glare. “Ok, look, I know you’re my boss now and all, but could you not just make me look stupid and weak in front of my _dad?_ He’s having a difficult enough time accepting this as it is. And… well, his health is…” She grimaced, and wavered a hand in the air between them. “It’s hard enough to stop him from trying create some kind of stupid resistance and ‘rescue’ me. He’ll get himself killed, so it’d be great if you didn’t give him more of an excuse.” She sighed, and slumped back in her chair. “So, like, what are you talking about? Payment? Don’t you think it’s a little much to ask us to pay you for conquering us too? Ugh, fine, if that’s what it takes, we’ve still got some money in the treasury. Take it, it’s all yours.”

Adora stared at the other woman, horrified enough to stop thinking about how poor and unprofessional the princess’s seated posture was. _Honestly, she’s going to wreck her spine at this rate, and if she’s so worried about her image…_ “What? No, no. I’m talking about _us_ paying _you._ I just found out that my soldiers have been stealing things. Now, I’m not sure I can identify and hold accountable the ones that have already done it, but I’d like to discuss plans for paying you back, and for keeping this from happening any more. “

Mermista stared back, in what was beginning to become a running theme of their interactions. “Ok, wow. I seriously did not expect the conversation to go here. Uh, so obviously if you don’t want to let them steal, they need to pay…”

From there, the conversation went on for hours, discussing trade in service hours and raw materials, layers of compensation, the problem of the Horde soldiers’ lack of direct currency, and troop allowances. Frankly, it was mind numbing for Adora, and from the way Mermista’s face had slipped from faux boredom into the real thing, for her as well. But it had to be done, even if it wasn’t quite the kind of battle she’d expected to wage as a Force Captain. And when it was complete, she caught Mermista studying her, a puzzled expression on her face. “…What are you staring at?”

“You, obviously. I’m trying to figure out what you’re doing. Like, you come in shooting, then say you want peace, and that you want us to be allies, but I’m still definitely working _for_ you, not with you… and look, don’t tell me that’s not true again. It’s really annoying to listen to. I mean, you listen to me, and that’s cool and all, but at the end of this meeting, if you decide you don’t like our deal, you get to just ignore it, and I can’t. So no, I work for you. Whatever, that’s fine. Anyway, then you take whatever you want, and start putting up your banners, but you want to pay us for it? You are officially the weirdest warlord I’ve ever heard of, even when you’re not an eight-foot tall glowing legend.”

Adora stiffened at the terminology. “I’m not a warlord! I’m just a war… captain.” The finish wasn’t as strong as she’d hoped for. “Hordak is the warlord. I’m the person trying to keep him away from your kingdom.”

“And planting his flag all over it, sure. But hey, I said I’d trust you on this, because you made it clear I didn’t really have a choice. And… sometimes, when you act like this, I almost think that you mean it.” Mermista paused. “…so you said that you couldn’t be a storybook hero, and just defeat the Horde. I mean, why? You’re powerful. You’re smart. Ish.” She continued as Adora rolled her eyes. “And you’ve got that whole living legend charisma vibe. You and your friends could have joined the rebellion. And then you probably could have eventually convinced other princesses to join you. A whole alliance, even. Then you wouldn’t be hiding.”

Adora sat down across from Mermista, head falling into her hands as her elbows rested on the table, suddenly understanding the princess’s poor posture. “Numbers, mostly. I mean, if you want to talk war strategy, we should really get Catra in here. I’m more of a tactician than a strategist.”

“Pass.”

“…Fine. Anyway, at first there were personal reasons for going back to the Horde after all this happened.” She tapped the pommel of her sword, ignoring Mermista’s curious look. “But then some things happened, and I got a look at the numbers. The Horde was spread really thin. Fighting against Bright Moon and Plumeria, while Bright Moon has an unbreakable defense. Fighting against you in an arena where you can actually match us. Fighting against the southern small kingdoms, who are way more organized than they have a right to be and have some kind of deal with this group of sorcerers that is _really_ causing a lot of trouble. But if we…they… were ever able to concentrate forces on any one of those fronts, it would just be over. The Horde just has better tech, and more resources, and more soldiers.”

“That actually sounds like a good reason to _not_ conquer my kingdom, and remove one of those fronts.”

Adora flushed, embarrassed. “We were… look, we were still trying to figure out what to do, okay? You don’t know them. You don’t know what they’re willing to do in order to win, not like Catra and I do. And then we got here, and it turns out that you were basically conquered already. And I hear that Plumeria is gone too, now. So what’s next? The Horde is winning, and I think the only way to change that is to cheat.” She gave a wan smile. “Catra likes cheating. She’s good at it. We may not be heroes, but hopefully we can get results like we were. And that’s more important, in the end. I’d rather keep people from getting hurt and be remembered as a traitor than be a revered hero for people who get killed because of me. And Catra…” Adora prodded at that place in her mind where Catra’s presence lived, feeling her way around her friend’s edges. “…Honestly, I think mostly she wants to live. I think she want to find a way to be brave even though she’s frightened, and this is how she can do that.”

Mermista nodded slowly. “That isn’t totally stupid. Okay, I guess I can make myself believe for the moment. Maybe you’re still lying your ass off to me, but at least it’s a decent lie. I just wish I could tell it to anyone else, so that they’d stop looking at me like I’m the traitor. Ugh. I’m thinking of skipping the All-Princess Ball because of this. Nobody is going to want to even look at me.”

Adora frowned. “…What’s an ‘All-Princess Ball?’”

* * *

The trip to Dryl hadn’t gone entirely as planned. Instead of a royal reception, or even an informal meeting, they’d dealt with a robot uprising, deadly First Ones technology gone berserk, and Entrapta’s own nearly suicidal obliviousness in responding to those first two problems. More than once Glimmer had to make herself stop and count, completing Perfuma’s breathing exercises, in order to mentally survive the princess of Dryl’s apparent fixation on getting them all killed.

In the end, though, the rogue tech hadn’t been a real threat against a resourceful warrior, a woman who understood almost too much about how it worked, and a princess who could teleport them anywhere they needed to go. Even Bow’s new arrow design had come in handy. The ordeal had been annoying and exhausting, but ultimately they hadn’t been in real danger. You’d never know it from how grateful Entrapta and the citizenry of Dryl had been, though. There had been a celebration, held outside in the town square because apparently the Crypto Castle didn’t have a ballroom, and probably the weirdest feast Glimmer had ever been to, consisting exclusively of small appetizers served by newly non-evil robots. Most importantly, though, Princess Entrapta, definitely the strangest person Glimmer had ever met, in an endearing sort of way, had immediately agreed to their alliance. Hadn’t even negotiated for it. Her simple gratitude was almost embarrassing, and Glimmer couldn’t shake the feeling that Entrapta simply didn’t grasp that this meant she would actually be at war, and what that might cost.

Instead, the three of them walked amidst a contingent of mechanical soldiers, and porters carrying huge amounts of technological equipment down the twisting slopes of Dryl’s mountains, back toward Alwyn, where they could find carriages back to Bright Moon; Bow and Entrapta happily chattering about technology (she’d been very interested in his arrow designs, as it turned out, and kept stopping to draw new diagrams for improving them in the dirt with the ends of her long, prehensile hair). Glimmer wasn’t sure how she did that; she’d brought up the subject of maybe moving Entrapta’s Lesser Runestone to Bright Moon for safekeeping, only to find out that she didn’t have one at all, but that was a tiny mystery, inconsequential compared to the other implications.

It meant that there was nothing unique, or even magical about Entrapta’s abilities. It meant that her weapons would be _replicable_ , and could be used by anyone.

For the eleventh time, Entrapta let out a squeal of joy, and excitedly asked “Are you sure I’ll get to study Horde technology up close? I’ve wanted to examine one of their bots intact for _years_ , but nobody will ever hand one over! They’re incredibly advanced, from what I’ve seen. Not as advanced as First Ones’ tech, but a lot more than mine, and that’s _great!”_ She rubbed her hands together excitedly, her hair carrying her along head and shoulders above Glimmer, even though they were both about the same height when standing (Glimmer found that annoying somehow, and kept subconsciously stretching whenever Entrapta walked by). “I almost never get to see technology that’s more advanced than mine, except First Ones tech, and that’s nearly impossible to reverse engineer. The crystalline energy cells draw power from Etheria’s ambient thaumic field, almost like a sorcerer, and I have no idea how to get a machine to do that! I’ve been experimenting with manipulating the thaumic field a bit, and have some encouraging results, but I’m a long way from a workable prototype. These Horde bots, though, from what I’ve seen, they run on electricity, so there shouldn’t be anything in them I can’t figure out, once I start taking them apart.”

Glimmer smiled. _This_ part wasn’t annoying to her. “Like we told you, you can have as much Horde technology as you want. I’ll have soldiers instructed to capture instead of destroy, and anything we get we’ll bring straight to your new workshop. And you’re sure you’ll be able to start making them for us soon?”

“Making _them_ for us? Oh, no, the things I make will be _much_ better! I’ve never met technology that couldn’t be improved with a little scientific rigor and imagination.” Her chipper voice sounded as though she’d never even heard the term “robot uprising.” “All technology is imperfect. That means you can always make it better! That’s what makes it fun!” She laughed, circling around them on her hair stilts. “I can already see applications for Bow’s arrow tech fitted to robots, and there are definitely programming improvements to be made, given what I’ve heard about their behavior in the field. And that’s without even looking at their power cores, or their weapons!” She lunged at Glimmer face first, stopping bare inches away from Glimmer’s own, and Glimmer had to stop herself from reflexively punching the other princess. “And of course _you_ have a runestone. An _Elemental_ runestone! Please, please, _please_ tell me that I’ll be able to examine it! I’ve wanted to examine an Elemental runestone for…” she fished around in her pocket for a small notebook, and checked it. “…eleven years and three weeks exactly today.” She clapped excitedly. “I’ve theorized that they are the key to unlocking Etheria’s greatest mysteries. Who knows what kind of advances I could make with just a little opportunity to observe. I’d been planning on asking Frosta if I could look at the Fractal Flake while I was at the ball, but if I can make an extended examination of the Moonstone, that would be _so_ much better!”

Bow looked at her skeptically, but Glimmer just nodded. “I’ll get you whatever you need, Princess Entrapta. Don’t worry about it. I’ll smooth things over with my Mom.”

“Your Mom?”

“…The Queen.”

“Oh, right, you’re the princess of Bright Moon! Almost forgot, sorry.”

“Not a problem.” Glimmer paused. “So, what are you going to need for this new workshop of yours, anyway?”

Entrapta’s delighted laughter nearly caused an avalanche.

* * *

Gray fingers stirred the surface of the water, causing the image in the basin to waver and collapse. Black threads of magic struggled to hold the spell together, but broke like worn twine with a sound that was inaudible to anyone not trained in the arts of sorcery.

Shadow Weaver staggered, catching the edge of her scrying bowl to keep from falling, and allowing herself to gulp down a few wheezing breaths of air before attempting to again conceal her weakness. Nobody was watching, but still, best to keep up the habit. It was important that nobody outside of her and Hordak know that so much of her former power was now Scorpia’s, leaving her with no more strength than a middling common sorcerer. And while the basic observation spell was a trivial matter, the version that allowed her to hear through it as well as see was an order of magnitude more taxing. Casting it multiple times per day, day after day, in order to keep close watch on Adora and Catra whenever they weren’t in proximity to Scorpia… well, it took energy she simply didn’t have anymore.

She could have grabbed that power back from Scorpia at any time, and as always felt a desperate urge to do so pass through her at the thought. The simpleton princess had no real experience with her abilities, and her connection to the Black Garnet was, as yet, young and untested. Shadow Weaver’s own spells still encircled the runestone, channeling and mediating its tremendous energies before passing them on to Scorpia, and with just the slightest alteration, the dark sorceress could reclaim them. But keeping the truth from Scorpia was as important as maintaining her show of strength. If Scorpia knew that Shadow Weaver stood as a gatekeeper to her own hereditary magic, she’d mention it to Adora and Catra. To She-Ra. And those two would know what that meant, would know they were being monitored, would know that their little revolution was compromised. And so she allowed herself to be weak.

_Hordak must enjoy this,_ she thought. _He finally has nothing to fear from me. As weak as I am, whatever weaponry he carries would likely cut me down in moments._ The thought rankled, but was no longer as frightening as it would have been. Paradoxically, despite her weakness, Hordak needed her more than ever. _Listened_ to her more than ever. The emergence of Adora as She-Ra had put a powerful and quite literal double-edged sword in Hordak’s metaphorical talons, and her expertise in handling Adora (and her pet) was absolutely essential if those powers were to be used correctly. He’d been furious to learn of the situation in Salineas at first, until Shadow Weaver had convinced him that temporary vassal status could be advantageous. Convinced him about all of the subtler parts of the plan, really, since that red-eyed _creature_ no more understood nuance than a rock could understand poetry.

Frankly, she was surprised that Adora had been able to come up with it. The girl was clever enough, but had always been a straightforward thinker.

Carefully, she retrieved a goblet and a bottle of wine from her personal cabinet, and sat down on the high-backed chair she’d had moved into the chamber for this purpose, sighing internally as some of the weight was taken off of her bones. She poured herself a glass, and swirled it about while thinking on the direction that events were taking them all. Salineas had fallen easily, and the next logical step was an attack on either Dryl or Bright Moon itself. Shadow Weaver found herself liking neither option. There were other, softer targets, and more ways to build power yet before truly unleashing her new weapons.

She stopped for a moment to give serious consideration to whether Hordak should survive that event or not, sipping slowly and thoughtfully from her glass, feeling the texture of the wine more than anything in a mouth that had long ago lost most of its ability to taste. For the moment, Hordak’s was the correct throne to be the power behind… but tomorrow?

Adora wanted to be loved. Hordak wanted to be feared. Shadow Weaver preferred to be permanent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Man, I really wrote a long chapter last time, and it took me forever. I should be careful about that."
> 
> (Proceeds to write almost 12K words for this chapter.)
> 
> Sorry it's long, and took a long time! I clearly can't promise anything about future installments, but I can at least try not to be insane.
> 
> Some notes: I have become aware that the fandom's accepted name for "General Sundera," mentioned in my last chapter, is actually Juliet. Okay, I can retcon that. Similarly, although the name of Catra's race, like almost all Etherians, is never given in the show, the fandom has apparently decided that they are to be called "magicats," in reference to the original show. Rather than create confusion by putting my own name on it, I'll go with that.
> 
> I'm making up where various lands are in relation to each other. I'll try to be consistent with that. I'm also making up locations, like other, smaller kingdoms that the Horde has conquered or is fighting against, since "Princess Prom" makes it clear that there are many more princesses than we actually see in the alliance.
> 
> I use the term "Lesser Runestone" here for the first time, but it won't be the last. It's a concept that will have some importance as things go on, and I use it to explain the existence of magical princess powers that aren't connected to an Elemental Runestone, like Spinnerella's and Nettossa's. I acknowledge that this is headcanon. I'm just making things up here, and for all I know Noelle Stevenson is going to kibosh my headcanons tomorrow or the next day. Still, there it is. I also make assumptions about the social structure of the Horde, and the civilian population of Horde-Occupied territory. Again, headcanon.
> 
> Although this is neither here nor there in this chapter, I'm working under the following interpretation regarding She-Ra's height compared to other characters: She-Ra IN THIS STORY actually is a full eight feet tall, and the fact that she never seems to be much more than 6 foot something in the show is for ease of composition. Otherwise, we'd only ever see She-Ra talking to the tops of other characters' heads, or Bow and Glimmer speaking to her chest. So in this story, she actually really is that huge. She probably looks more than a little unreal to other characters. Catra's head comes up to about her ribcage. In She-Ra form, Adora probably has trouble with a lot of doors, and looks faintly ridiculous while seated in a normal sized chair. One of her hands can probably wrap at least most of the way around a normal person's head. That might be important later. We'll see!
> 
> Finally, thanks again to my patient and wonderful beta readers, and all of their comments. Couldn't do it without you!


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